Tom Waits: The Heart of Saturday Night
Week 7
THE PITCH
People choose music for many reasons: to workout at the gym, as soothing background to counter a boring or tricky task, or to create an atmosphere at a party. I think I listen to music because, as you know, I like short stories – to me, music offers this joy in a different form. The tracks I choose to listen to most often – it won’t surprise you to hear – are those which best mirror the experience of hearing a short story. The story is usually told through the poetry of the song lyrics but the feel of the story, its beating heart, is also felt through the beating sound of the music, be it either a driving rhythm or a soulful soaring of strings. And, because I like short stories and appreciate that medium – with its necessary creative limitations – then I appreciate the artistry behind a piece of music which does something similar to a short story. I like a track which in a few words sets a scene, conjures characters and a situation. It might suggest a backstory or hint at future direction. It might convey the feelings of the main character or the complex relationship between characters. And with fewer words available in a song, those words have to work hard in the way that poetry works, using images which cascade and collide to create a picture in the brain. And just as the best short stories repay re-reading to attempt to unpick the hidden magic at work or for the joy of knowing the story – how it unfolds, yet wanting to hear it again and again as a child wants to listen over and over to a favourite bedtime story, so the best songs repay repeated listening.
My second choice is more contemplative. I love Tom Waits’ music but some is more accessible than others. This is a good place to start; a collection for those who like Raymond Carver short stories or perhaps Humphrey Bogart films. This rewards careful listening, best done alone in a dimly lit room beside a twinkling Christmas tree with a dog at your feet and a glass of whisky in the hand.
Roz Moore
MY RESPONSE
Are you ready, Roz? You know I’m going to disagree – I can’t help myself…
I think of story as synonymous with narrative and, although there are songs that tell a story, to me, the essence of a song is always going to be mood. A song is more like a painting or a poem than a story; it’s a moment captured. In an expressly ‘story’ poem, the music gives away how the story’s going to go from the start, announcing ‘never was a story of more woe’ or its positive alternative before the lyrics do their work. And that means the song’s always going to be about mood not narrative. Do you know Jim Croce’s song Bad, Bad Leroy Brown? That’s a story song but the essence of it isn’t the tragic story of Leroy Brown. Its essence is the mood: it’s a jaunty, rollicky bar-room tall tale. Mary Chapin Carpenter’s This Shirt is a series of scenes that catalogue a relationship, but it’s not a whole story; it’s a patchwork that delivers a mood of mostly contented nostalgia.
(But it’s possible my objection here is invalid as I think you may not agree that a short story absolutely has to have a ‘story’.)
To bring this back to the Tom Waits, The Heart of Saturday Night is all about mood and atmosphere. I love that there are characters and scenes here and that it carries you through a night in this town from different points of view. I love the completeness of the pictures drawn by the tracks on the album, the movement of time from getting ready to go out to morning light arriving. I love Waits’ turns of phrase. I have to tell you though that you were always going to be on to a bit of a winner with this album because I already have a penchant for Tom Waits.
Whizzy time-machine noise…
It was 1984. Simon (my boyfriend at the time) played the entire oeuvre of The Police, The Cure on a loop and U2. (The U2 took me a minute to think of; I remembered the cover, a boy’s face staring at me, defiant, from the stack of records leaning against the trunk where Simon’s stereo sat. I set War playing and instantly there I was in that cold, damp flat, wrapped up in Simon’s jumper and his quilt, him deep in Moby-Dick or Our Mutual Friend or some other chunky Victorian novel and me struggling with Racine because the music was distracting and my big French dictionary was back in the house I was actually supposed to live in.) In addition to being obsessed with The Cure, Simon loved the movies of Francis Ford Coppola and one day, he put on the soundtrack from Coppola’s movie One from the Heart with music by Tom Waits sung by him and Crystal Gayle. Readers, I HATED it. What was this jazzy, jangly, alien nonsense? What were these voices? Why did anyone think this man with his weird growly voice could sing? But Simon played it again. And again. And eventually I saw the strange, moody movie (again and again). And the album grew on me until eventually I was the one setting this record on the turntable.
I really like The Heart of Saturday Night. I like the images it creates; I like the mellow jazzy sound of it. I will definitely play it again, most likely with a dog and a fire. But I like the One from the Heart soundtrack better. It’s a little edgier, a little more varied in tone, not so mellow. I love the contrast between Waits’ growl and Gayle’s pure voice. (Perhaps the fact that the album tells a story I can follow helps!) If you’ve never seen the movie or heard this soundtrack, Roz, seek them out. I think they’ll be right up your street.
WHAT ELSE I’VE LISTENED TO THIS WEEK
Tom Waits & Crystal Gayle One From The Heart soundtrack
Neville Brothers Yellow Moon
Tom Waits Alice
Bob Dylan Highway 61 Revisited
Bob Dylan Blonde on Blonde
U2 War
U2 Boy
The Police Regatta de Blanc