Over a nine-year period the one shining beacon in what became a shroud of darkness and hard times for me with Waits's music was the album he released in 1999, which returned somewhat to his previous style, mixing elements from
Rain Dogs with
Blue Valentine and even older albums like
The Heart of Saturday Night. It's not that there wasn't any experimentation on it - one of his cleverest, weirdest and darkest songs, “What's He Building?” is on it - but after the like of
The Black Rider and the two albums to follow this, it felt like he had come home, if only for a brief rest and to change his shirt before heading back out into the world of weird and avant-garde.
Mule Variations (1999)
This is an album where Kathleen returns to exert her influence, or add her muse, depending on which way you look at their relationship, in a way that she had not done since 1992's
Bone Machine. She writes twelve of the sixteen tracks with him, and co-produces the album. And yet, it's a much more organic feel than with
Bone Machine, which for all its beauty sounded harsh, stark and almost mechanical at times. There's a lush almost calm over some of the recordings here, and it ends up being as much a folk as a rock album.
“Big in Japan” gets us underway, and in case you were wondering, no, it's not a cover of the Alphaville song. Everything here is original. Reminding me in ways of “Such a Scream”, it's a big, echoey, bouncy percussion as the song struts along with a sort of falsetto vocal from Waits, some screeching guitar ad some cool trumpet from Ralph Carney. There's a real
Rain Dogs feel then to “Lowside of the Road”, a slow, grinding, dark haunting tune that trips along on banjo and guitar, Waits on the optigon organ, and back to his slurred, nearly drunk vocal. “Hold On” slows everything down with a soft ballad reminiscent of “Time”. At five and a half minutes it's almost the longest track on the album but is well beaten by the next one, which at just shy of seven minutes is I think the longest Waits track to date.
“Get Behind the Mule” sees him in full flight vocally, rasping out the lyric with a sort of phased effect and some fine harmonica taking it along in a sort of Delta Blues manner; I hear echoes of “Gun Street Girl” here, then the first song he writes solo on the album is “House Where Nobody Lives”, a lovely piano-driven ballad with more than a hint of gospel about it and a fair slice of Country too. This is very like something you would have heard on
Closing time, while “Cold Water” is more in the
Heartattack and Vine style, a boppy, bar-room drinking song sparked by sharp guitar in a very blues vein. He actually nods back to
Blue Valentine when he sings
”Slept in the graveyard/ It was cool and still” though admittedly on that album he was whistlin' past it. The next two are his own creations also, with “Pony” another piano ballad like something off
Franks Wild Years, with a nice dobro line from Smokey Hormel and then I have already written extensively about the genius that is “What's He Building?” which you can read here
The Word According to Waits, but suffice to say it's one of his oddest, best, and most disturbing songs when you read between the lines, and certainly a standout on the album, perhaps my favourite.
“Black Market Baby” slides along with its hands thrust deep into its pocket, head down, trying not to make eye contact, turns a corner with a quick look over its shoulder and is gone, leaving us standing in the darkness and pretty much unprepared for the sort of tribal-influenced “Eyeball Kid”. This album is, I think, the first time Waits has used the DJ technique of spinning decks, which began with “What's He Building?” and continues on through the next two tracks. I don't really see their impact to be honest, but someone more familiar with their use may do. Even at that, it's a new direction for the man who is forever kicking over signposts that say “Don't go this way” and gunning his car towards the “Bridge out” sign. A simple piano ballad harking back again to
Closing Time for the tender “Picture in a Frame” and things stay slow and folky for some fine banjo on “Chocolate Jesus”. In fact, to an extent we might as well be in 1973 now, as “Georgia Lee” could easily have found a home on his debut album, another piano ballad with some mournful violin and a slow, growly vocal. An accusatory lyric:
”Why wasn't God watching?/ Why wasn't God listening? / Why wasn't God there for Georgia Lee?”
Time to up the tempo now, as “Filipino Box Spring Hog” (don't ask!) bops along with wild abandon, Waits almost tipping his hat to Queen's “We Will Rock You”. I'm serious. Slowing down again then with another piano ballad, “Take it With Me”, with Waits at his quietest and most reserved, and we end on a cheery gospel track, as “Come On Up to the House” just exudes joy and acceptance and welcome. And for a brief time, welcome back Waits: you've been away too long. He even throws in the signature piano riff from “Innocent When You Dream” to finish it off. Wonderful!
TRACK LISTING
1. Big in Japan
2. Lowside of the Road
3. Hold On
4. Get Behind the Mule
5. House Where Nobody Lives
6. Cold Water
7. Pony
8. What's He Building
9. Black Market Baby
10. Eyeball Kid
11. Picture in a Frame
12. Chocolate Jesus
13. Georgia Lee
14. Filipino Box Spring Hog
15. Take it With Me
16. Come On Up to the House
If Waits fans are divided into two camps (and I'm not saying they are), it's probably between those who prefer the “early” material, say up to about 1985, and those who enjoy the more experimental side he began to show from
Swordfishtrombones on, thanks to Kathleen and her Beefheart influence. I am of course firmly in the former section; I love everything he did from
Closing Time up to and including
Rain Dogs, but after that I felt he began to move in a direction I was not completely happy with.
Franks Wild Years was where things began to change for me, and really, it never quite recovered from that on.
Bone Machine was an album I did enjoy, and of course the soundtrack album was good too, but the Waits I knew and loved and had come to know was a long way away from me now, and so this album came as a really unexpected and welcome relief from all the harshness of the ones either side of it. It's a return to the “real” Waits music, for me, and it's rather a pity that it was then followed by two albums which, if memory serves, I totally disliked. As we will see.
Rating: 9.6/10