Closing Time - Tom Waits

I've been waiting patiently for this album to be pulled out of the basket. Tom Waits' first album from 1973, Closing Time, is my favourite. It was before he shredded his vocal chords so it's very accessible, however, it still has the tragic, romantic and lonesome themes of the rest of his canon.

Even though Waits was in his early twenties when this was released, you'd believe he was an old man sitting drunk at the bar. Similar to Bruce Springsteen, Waits sings stories of people - their fears, hopes and dreams.

Sadly, B doesn't find Waits' voice on his later albums - described as being "soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months, and then taken outside and run over with a car" - as seductive as I do so this album is played more than his other work at our house. It is also one of 'our' albums, which together with the aforementioned Springsteen reference should provide you with adequate forewarning, dear reader, of the painful mush to come in this post.

Early in our 'courting days' B & I took a 'sick day' and just hung out. Martha Wainwright was being interviewed on triple j about her favourite songs and she played I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You. We both listened gobsmacked by the beauty of the song; the clarity of Waits' voice and the vivid picture it painted in our minds. We were both pretending not to be in love with one another but knowing damn well where it was headed.

Martha of course, played Martha next. Alone in our imaginations, we speculated about forty years down the track when our relationship - which hadn't really started - hadn't actually worked out, as an old Tom Frost wonders what might have been with Martha. In order to avoid this fate, B would argue I stuck my claws in at this very point and haven't let up...

Martha is the best song on the album. But before you can feel sorry for the fool, there is plenty of male bravado. Old Shoes (& Pictures Postcards) is the cocky goodbye to a lover - "farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes, I'm gonna kiss you and then I'll be gone". It's followed up by Midnight Lullaby which epitomises the mood of this album. You need to listen to it in a smokey club, with velvet drapes, nursing your joys or your sorrows over a whiskey at 2am.

The album veers from blues to swing. Virginia Avenue is Tom serenading the tired hooker who frequents the bar. The swing is particularly joyous on Ice Cream Man. Sung with a wink, it's a song that sparkles of show tunes.

Tom Waits music has remained interesting, challenging and brilliant since this debut. Waits is probably the most popular singer to be labelled a cult artist. A bit like Charles Bukowski whose poetry remains immensely popular too. Unlike most things 'cult' he is still releasing albums worth buying almost forty years later.

If you need to be introduced to Waits (and find his gravelly voice grating), then grab a copy of Closing Time. There are a few different women on this album and no doubt Waits loves them all and doesn't mean to break their hearts. But he does. And god he makes bloody beautiful music about it. And to finish off your evening, treat yourself by having a listening to Springsteen covering the best song ever written, Tom Waits' Jersey Girl.