rashbre central: hold your breath till the sun goes down

Friday 4 November 2011

hold your breath till the sun goes down

I was in the supermarket when I spotted the latest edition of Uncut magazine. It's not something I'd normally buy, but the cover with its Tom Waits' Jukebox drew me towards it. Usually it carries quite a few retro articles about (e.g.) how Deep Purple wrote their 1970 hit single "Black Night" (they jammed it as a b-side) or what Bob Dylan was doing in 1976 (Rolling Thunder).

It reminds me of that recently launched magazine that carries slightly old news. There was a copy in a hotel where I stayed recently, and although it was all elaborately printed and typeset, I couldn't really be bothered to read news from the last three months, ending in August.

But I'll make an exception with the Tom Waits article, which was a longish and recent interview as well as the song selections, which feature sufficient bar-rooms, brawls and gasoline references to keep me engaged. I know I reference Mr Waits here from time to time, and to be honest I don't really know how many of his albums I have, except that its quite a lot, including some on vinyl but usually repeated as CDs.

Aside from the lyrics and interesting music, there's often a reason to get the physical packaging with his albums too. Who can forget the cover of Real Gone, with its handy match striker surface? or the little book included with Orphans, Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards? I personally think he missed a trick by not including any glitter or confetti with Glitter and Doom, but the second CD of talk tracks more than compensated.

There's a new album out now too, Bad as Me, but I shall wait until after my birthday before considering purchasing it.

Well, you play that Tarantella, all the hounds they start to roar
The boys all go to hell, and then the Cubans hit the floor
They drive along the pipeline, they tango till they're sore
They take apart their nightmares and they leave 'em by the door
Let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair
Deal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairs
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past
Send me off to bed forever more

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