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Showing posts with label robert quine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label robert quine. Show all posts

Friday, 17 October 2025

Outside Another Yellow Moon

A conversation about Tom Waits last weekend directed me to this track by Akira The Don, a track with a borrowed vocal, Tom Waits reading Charles Bukowski's The Laughing Heart, a poem about existence, fulfillment and finding light among the darkness- 'Your life is your life/ Don't let it be clubbed into dank submission/ Be on the watch/ There are ways out/ There is light somewhere...'

I read Bukowski's Ham On Rye in the summer, a semi- autobiographical novel based partly on his own teenage and young adulthood in Los Angeles in the 1930s and 40s- it's a grim read in many ways, the young Henry Chinaski not fitting in at school or the private college his father sends him to, and he pulls no punches in his first person description of school brutality, domestic violence, masturbation, alcohol, terrible acne and indifferent doctors and the growing misanthropy of Chinaski (a thinly veiled Bukowski). That Bukowski wrote an existential poem that concludes there is light somewhere is remarkable given how dark much of his writing is. 

The Laughing Heart

Akira The Don adds piano, a jazz club feel and some very lazy hip hop drums, all very sympathetic to Mr. Waits. I then remembered that 100 Poems used the Waits vocal for Song For Claire (Your Life Is Your Life) on their 2024 album Balearic As A System Of Belief. 

It got me looking through my collection for more Tom Waits. I've posted this before but it's always worth a re- post, Tom Waits' Closing Time spliced with Allen Ginsberg reading his poem America, a Ginsberg peak, the young Allen looking around at the nation and his life- 'America/ I've given you all and now I'm nothing'. 

America features the use of a racial slur which was part of Ginsberg's America and very much not acceptable now. 

America (Closing Time)

Tom Waits is in a way one of the last links to the Beats, an artist in the Kerouac, Ginsberg and Burroughs tradition. His bohemian life and scenes from the underworld/ underbelly of American society street poetry seems very 20th century now, a dying art form in some ways. I can't think of many artists existing in the same milieu- those that do, Jim Jarmusch say or Bob Dylan (also a Beat inspired writer), won't be around forever. David Lynch departed earlier this year- his music fitted into a Waitsian world. 

I don't have a huge amount of Tom Waits, I never committed to going the full hog. I used to have Swordfishtrombones on cassette but I didn't replace it after my cassette collection got slimmed down in the 90s, probably something I should rectify. I had a copy of Mule Variations too but can't find it now. Mule Variations came out in 1999- I was amazed it's that long ago. I always loved this piece of weirdness and neighbourly paranoia, What's He Building?

I do have Rain Dogs, Tom's 1985 album, often lauded as one of his best. It's got the full Waits range of carnival music, Weimar oompah, jazz, experimental rock and blues, New Orleans funeral marches, various styles of outsider music stitched into a whole. Rain Dogs was written by Waits in a basement room in Lower Manhattan in a two month period in the mid- 80s. He wandered round the city with a tape recorder taping sounds and noises which he then layered guitars, marimba, trombone, piano, accordion and banjo on top of and made drumbeats out of banging pieces of furniture, drawers from cupboards and cabinets. Sometimes the album's madness, variation and cacophony is too much- I have to be in the mood for it. But peppered among the underbelly pieces and bursts of chaotic noise are some of his best loved songs too- Time, Hang Down Your Head, Downtown Train. 

Clap Hands is the second song on Rain Dogs, with uneven pots and pans percussion and Tom narrating the lives of New York's dispossessed.

Clap Hands

Hang Down Your Head was released as a single, a song with a proper structure that nodded to his earlier work, Waits at his most direct and songwriterly, that gravel voice accompanied by electric guitar. 

Hang Down Your Head

9th And Hennepin finds itself in the gutter with broken umbrellas and dead birds, a girl with a tattooed tear and the train going by, an NYC Beat Generation blues poem. 

9th And Hennepin

Downtown Train is one of his most famous songs, covered by Bob Seger, Rod Stewart and Everything But The Girl. Tom's song has Robert Quine playing a wonderful electric guitar part (Quine turned up at Bagging Area last week playing guitar on Lou Reed's The Blue Mask). Downtown Train has become a classic and for good reason.

Downtown Train

Friday, 10 October 2025

The Blue Mask

At the start of this year I undertook the totally self- imposed decision to explore the world of Lou Reed's back catalogue with fresh ears and an open mind. This was based on a post at The Vinyl Villain at the tail end of 2024 where JC posted the songs from a 1980 Lou Reed compilation and some of them, songs I hadn't heard for decades, really caught my attention. I went back to some albums unplayed for ages and found much to enjoy. Berlin I opined, is a masterpiece. I then decided to do Lou Reed solo, album by album, on second hand vinyl wherever possible. Not long after I was in a second hand record shop- dangerous places I know- and Lou's self titled debut album was in the rack. I bought it, listened to it several times and then wrote about it here. After that Transformer (one I already had on vinyl). Then I bought a copy of Sally Can't Dance and was not disappointed. Sally Can't Dance but Lou Can Write

And that was as far as I got. Summer drifted on and I was looking for a copy of Coney Island Baby, the next logical place to go but I couldn't find a copy at a price I was happy with. Then, while browsing the Lou Reed/ Velvets section in a second hand shop I found a copy of The Blue Mask for under a tenner. This meant jumping out of the 70s and into the 80s. Lou Reed, like many other 60s stars had a very bad 80s- but, some Lou Reed fans speak highly of The Blue Mask, an 80s highlight, one to play alongside the best of his solo albums. 

I can't completely agree. The Blue Mask has some good moments and with Robert Quine on guitar some really good playing, Lou's guitar in the right hand channel and Robert's in the left. Lou sounds alive, sarcastic, snarly, full of New York skronk and grime and when it's good, it's good enough. The run of songs towards the end of side two are good- Waves Of Fear is nasty (in a good way), with squally guitars and feedback, lyrics of  revulsion, panic and alcoholism. Lou has cleaned up, got married and is looking at two decades of squalor and drug addiction in the rear view mirror.

Waves Of Fear

It's followed by The Day John Kennedy Died which is I suppose well meaning but there's something about the simplistic, spoken word lyrics that don't quite work for me- although the sound and feel of his 1989 album New York can be found in the song. He ends with the line 'I dreamed that I could comprehend that someone shot him in the face' (which is for the record, historically wrong- JFK was hit in the top of the head and the throat. Pedantry maybe but it jars).  

The Day John Kennedy Died

It finishes with Heavenly Arms which is a good song, a nod to the sound of Transformer (along with the front cover shot). 

Side one was a struggle though, I nearly took it off. Opener My House is good, sympathetic twin guitars, lead bass and Lou singing about his house out of the city near the lake, a new found domestic lifestyle, his luck at having a wife, house and motorcycle- and the spirit of Delmore Schwartz haunting him. 

Women is knuckle bitingly bad. 

'I love women/ I think they're great/ They're a solace to a world in a terrible state'. 

'I love women/ We all love women'

This is from the man who wrote All Tomorrow's Parties, The Black Angel's Death Song, Heroin, Pale Blue Eyes, Foggy Notion, Sad Song, Satellite Of Love and I Can't Stand It. The Gun is a mess. I'm sure Lou's satirising gun owners and gun culture but he does with such a display of deadpan machismo it's difficult to tell. Average Guy is awful. It's like he's deliberately writing shit to see if he can get away with it. 

The Blue Mask hasn't exactly sent me scurrying into Lou's 80s with a spring in my step. If this is a good 80s Lou Reed album, I'm not looking forward to the bad ones. I'm still on the look out for the rest of the 70s ones though, I haven't given up and there's still Street Hassle to do too. I'll try to leave The Blue Mask on a positive note. Robert Quine said they hardly rehearsed and everything was first or second take with few overdubs. If that's the case the playing is remarkably focused and the twin guitars and playing on this song are right up there. 

Underneath The Bottle