Tom Waits' Early Career - Part I

With Tom Waits it's sort of like Paul McCartney in reverse; because his later work is so immediately distinctive, endlessly rewarding, and almost supernaturally good, it's hard to even see his earlier albums as part of the same career. I've just gone back and listened to every single Tom Waits album, from Closing Time to Blood Money, and I'm wondering if the bizarre, edgy humor of his later persona has made people enjoy his relatively straightforward earlier material more than they really would have otherwise. I mean, I'm someone who already has a predilection for cheesy 70s singer-songwriters, but without that later career turn, it seems to me Tom Waits would have been just another one of those guys like John Hiatt, Townes Van Zant, or Jerry Jeff Walker: pleasant, rootsy-sounding guys that maybe wrote a couple of songs that someone else turned into bigger hits, while only rock nerds and a small fan base remembered who they even were. I'm not trying to take Tom Waits to task, exactly; it's just that the path of his career is so strikingly unusual. It's the exception to an almost infallible rule. How many rock acts have pulled off such an effortless switcheroo so far into their career? I can only think of a few, like Pulp, and the Bee Gees, and maybe Fleetwood Mac to some extent (although they essentially became a different band, like what happened with Pink Floyd). John Fogerty and Aretha Franklin both mucked around in mediocrity for several years before landing upon styles so seemingly natural that it's hard to believe they ever sounded so undistinguished. But those two went from obscurity to superstardom; Tom Waits went from obscurity to obscurity. It's like he has two completely separate cult audiences. A fan of his later stuff might not be a fan of his earlier stuff, and vice versa. I guess my question is: who were the fans of his earlier stuff? And what is a fan of his later stuff to do with his earlier stuff? Is it really not so different after all? In other words, could we see the greatness coming?

Let's start with Closing Time. To me this album is one great song and a bunch of filler. We've got "Ol' 55," and then a lot of underdeveloped meandering. Sure, it's relatively diverse, but on the whole it's pretty thin stuff. It sounds like he was trying to pull off a Randy Newman sort of thing, but it just comes off like Randy Newman lite. In fact, "Lonely" sounds like he just listened to Newman's "I Think It's Going To Rain Today" and tried to do a quick rip-off. Look at these lyrics:

Lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely eyes,
lonely face, lonely lonely in your place.
Lonely, lonely, lonely eyes, lonely face,
lonely lonely in your place.

I thought that I knew all that there was to,
lonely, lonely, lonely...

Melanie Jane, won't feel the pain.
Lonely, lonely, lonely eyes, lonely eyes,
lonely lonely in your place.

And I thought that I knew all that there was to
Lonely, lonely, lonely eyes, lonely eyes,
lonely lonely in your place, and
I still love you, I still love you,
lonely, lonely...

What the hell is that? The music sounds even less distinguished; I think he just plucked around on the piano for three minutes and called it a song. (Hell, Newman probably did the same thing, since "I Think It's Going To Rain Today" isn't one of my favorite Newman songs either). Then there's "Martha," which sounds like one of Newman's patented "Ironically Sincere Songs About Old Folks" like "Love Story" or "Marie" or "So Long Dad," except without the sharp lyrical detail. Indeed, that's the surprising thing about Closing Time: for an artist whose best work is so unmistakably "Tom Waits," his debut album presents a songwriter and performer who is extremely typical. There's nothing here that really would have made him stand out from the pack as far as I can see. "Ice Cream Man?" Anyone could have written this song:

I'll be clickin' by your house about two forty-five
Sidewalk sundae strawberry surprise,
I got a cherry popsicle right on time
A big stick, mamma, that'll blow your mind

'Cause I'm the ice cream man,
I'm a one-man band (yeah)
I'm the ice cream man, honey,
I'll be good to you.

Baby, missed me in the alley, baby, don't you fret
Come back around and don't forget,
When you're tired and you're hungry
and you want something cool,
Got something better than a swimming pool

'Cause I'm the ice cream man,
I'm a one-man band
I'm the ice cream man, honey,
I'll be good to you.
'Cause I'm the ice cream man,
I'm a one-man band
I'm the ice cream man, honey,
I'll be good to you.

See me coming, you ain't got no change
Don't worry baby, it can be arranged:
Show me you can smile, baby just for me
Fix you with a drumstick, I'll do it for free

'Cause I'm the ice cream man, I'm a one-man band
I'm the ice cream man, honey, I'll be good to you.
Be good to you, be good to you,
Good to you yeah, good to you yeah,
good to you yeah, good to you yeah,
Good to you yeah, good to you,
'll be good to you, I'll be good to you...

Sure it's pleasant, but was this really the best stuff he had? It sounds like any schmoe in a bar on a Saturday night. Through the prism of his later persona, I guess the song might be seen as the earliest version of his funny, weird songs about assorted strange characters. But at the time, people did not yet know that Waits would get weirder, so it must have come off as more of a throwaway novelty.

The bottom line with Closing Time is that the songs reveal very little of Tom Waits' actual personality. And because we know all about Tom Waits' actual personality from his later music, there's a sense that he was trying too hard here to be a normal (read: bland) singer-songwriter. Where's all the beatnik crap? We get maybe a whiff of it in "Virginia Avenue" (which sounds like the warm-up track for his next album), but otherwise there's not really a trace of the lyrical wit or sleazy charm that would define "Tom Waits" and at least tenuously link his early and later careers. Even his voice is shockingly normal at this stage. The album is well-produced, and doesn't sound dated, and certainly is good enough to be released, but in an era where the standards in rock were very, very high - where a singer/songwriter album meant something like There Goes Rhymin' Simon or Something/Anything - Closing Time barely makes the cut.

The one track that I would rank with Tom Waits' best material, of course, is "Ol' 55." Indeed, this is the track that apparently made his reputation, as the Eagles famously covered it. The thing is, it sounds almost nothing like later Tom Waits; basically he wrote an Eagles song. It looks, smells and tastes like an Eagles song. But people who would never tolerate an Eagles song find themselves liking "Ol' 55." Come on. If these people didn't know that Tom Waits would eventually become much cooler, would they really like "Ol' 55" all that much? Maybe it's only OK because they know this is the same guy who would later use trash cans as percussion. What I'm saying is, is it possible that at one point in time, Tom Waits was actually less cool than the Eagles? A terrifying thought, I'm sure, but one that I will leave as pure conjecture.

To be continued...