Friday, February 17, 2006

Innocent When You Dream

Intoxicating morning with the Dr, Stocki and Prophet Wallis, but before I get to that I must tell you about the surreal surprise the Dr and I were blessed with this morning. Awaiting the arrival of a certain gentleman named Jim we were waxing lyrical – talking shite to be honest when out of arrivals bumbles Dickie Attenborough. Not much taller than a hobbit he, complete with tweed hat, ambled and stuttered toward us smiling in some eccentric but sweet way. In no time he’d popped to the loo before disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared. It was though a lovely moment…one I won’t forget.

There is much to communicate regarding what the prophet has said so far, but he has much more to say and so I will ponder in my heart the sound bites of the soul he has bestowed this day. Instead this doubting Thomas will share a little from a book I bought this afternoon. I took an hour to myself to contemplate the depth charges of the morning and early afternoon and surprise surprise I found myself in a bookshop. They’re I found a treasure – ‘Innocent when you dream: Tom Waits, the collected interviews’

Waits has long held my attention with his genius drunken bohemian persona. There are few who are so loud and uncontainable, heartsick, lonely and confiding. He is the whiskey-warped but tender voice of the forgotten, the desperate and broken – his work has always given hope and a voice for the fragile and depressed – and for that I have always loved his work.

He has never written an autobiography so I guess this collection of interviews may just be the closest work yet to draw near to the heart and psyche of Tom Waits for those intrigued by the enigmatic artist. Just got time for a Guinness or three to read a little before the next talk by Mr Wallis, I shall drink deeply…

1 comment:

Mata H said...

I wonder -- have you ever heard the collarboration between Gavin Bryars and Tom Waits called "Jesus' Blood.."? Here is a review from This late minimalist, 74-minute piece for orchestra and tape has had, and continues to have, a near-legendary effect on its audience. It's the rare work created specifically to tug gently at one's heartstrings that actually does, and not subtly, either. It starts with a found recording of a homeless man singing a halting, simple melody looped over and over. Then Bryars builds and buttresses this with a full orchestra brought in incrementally, from the first carefully placed short pendulum string sweep to, 10 minutes from the end, the gravelly-voiced singer Tom Waits joins in. It's an obvious but effective work--appealing to all the basics of our emotional nervous system, but still tragically beautiful. --Robin Edgerton