Tom Waits

What Tom Waits does to the blues is something like what newspapers do to bright colors -
in the way that a picture of the Sistine Chapel's ceiling ends up looking like roast beef in
the morning edition, Waits' arty, seasick imagination turns a rural American song form into a
garish, surreal fantasy. Mule Variations, Waits' first studio album in six years, contains the
most blues of any album he's made. When he plays the Southern hayseed, he wa... More >

Between 1985 and 1993 Waits managed to seem prolific while generating exactly one album that wasn't tied to a film or theater piece. Between 1993 and 1998 he managed to remain mythic while generating occasional occasional songs and a rumor that he'd split with his wife. So it's a pleasure to report that his best record since Swordfishtrombones has Ms. Kathleen Brennan all over it, which he's proud to testify is why it's also his kindest record ever: "She puts the heart into all the things. She's my true love." Together they humanize the percussion-battered Bone Machine sound, reconstituting his '80s alienation effects into a Delta harshness with more give to it--enough to accommodate a tenderness that's never soft. Sure "Eyeball Kid" is a sick joke about a freak show; sure "Big in Japan" is a send-up about a failure. But by the blues-drenched reconciliation hymn "Come On Up to the House," he knows how lucky he is: "Come down off the cross/We can use the wood/Come on up to the house." (Grade: A-)