30 Favorite Tom Waits Songs
I fell for a Facebook post, got unreasonably angry about everyone else’s taste in songs, and decided to write my own list.
Please note that the title of this post is not “30 BEST Tom Waits Songs.”
I do realize that lists of this nature are subjective.
That said, the list I read today from SPIN about “The 30 Best Tom Waits Songs” (because yes, that was THEIR list title) made me grumpy. Frankly, the list sucked.
Adam Rothbarth wrote the list in 2017. I only just saw it today. I don’t know Mr. Rothbarth, but a quick bit of online digging indicates he is, among other things, a “cylist.” So his opinion is both forgiven and forgotten accordingly.
As to the list, yes, I made my own. Waits fans amongst you who read this with keen eyes will note that the list includes nothing from before Small Change and nothing after Mule Variations. This is because he didn’t write and record anything truly great outside of those bookends. Or, shall I say, he didn’t write anything I would classify as a “favorite.” Note: this is ok. Small Change was released in 1976. Mule Variations was released in 1999. That’s a 23-year span. That’s outstanding. 30 of the world’s greatest songs, released in 23 years? We all wish we could write a timeless song more than once a year. We don’t. He did. So don’t complain if there’s nothing from The Heart of Saturday Night or Alice.
Truly astute readers will note that a great many of the songs I chose can be found, in live form, on Big Time. That’s because, I suspect, that Tom and I share similar opinions about which songs of his are best. Or perhaps it’s his wife I share opinions with? I gather she had a big role on shaping the release. She waved to me once outside of a billiards hall in Oakland as I stared at her and Tom walking away. I was too shy to say hello, but I think she could tell I wanted to. At least I got the wave.
I also have these songs. All 30 of them, and I can listen to them whenever I want. I suggest you do too. And so, without further ado, my list. In alphabetical order:
30 Favorite Tom Waits Songs
16 shells from a 30 ought six
funky, bluesy, clanky, and clunky, the music is a raw as anything Waits has done, and the lyrics are a sort of other language created by Waits through pieces of dialect scattered on a killing floor. my personal favorite Waits song of ’em all
back in the good old world
one of the most hauntingly simple and inescapable melodies Waits has produced, for a song that perfectly captures the cinematic scope of gypsy-hearted beauty it was meant to convey
blue valentine
an instant standard, and yet, impossible to replicate or top. in any other hands, the maudlin weight would be too much. when the song remains within the realm of Waits’ brutal throat, however, it holds onto its pathos-with-style perfection
burma shave
Waits has an eerie knack for evoking childhood in his heartbreakingly adult ballads, and Burma Shave may be the best of his cryptic narratives. once heard, the idea will live in the head of your heart forever
clap hands
a sort of nursery rhyme for the damned, this is both impossible to understand, and impossible to forget, and yet, like some sort of cast off dead sea scroll, it manages to be timelessly resonant all the same
cold, cold ground
for my money, this may be Waits’ best song. it’s beautiful. it’s beauty with a limp. it hurts sometimes to listen to it, but it hurts more not too
dirt in the ground
Waits’ faux-preacher caricatures are often exactly that for me—too caricatured—but the brutality of this vision, combined with the raw delivery and buckshot sonic acoustics make this a great deal more real, and a great deal more powerful accordingly
get behind the mule
Waits isn’t much of a blues player, but in his defense, he doesn’t very often try to be, but i think what he’s done is create a legit blues masterpiece for the ages
gun street girl
this is like Wiseblood for doomed hobos. the second best weird ol’ america use of a banjo on record (dock boggs, and neil young on “for the turnstiles,” come in at #1 and #3 respectively)
hang on st. christopher
to write the great road song is the goal of every great songwriter. this is one of the best. on the road in all its claptrap crap truck glory
heartattack and vine
most of Waits’ early alley-dweller theatrics fall too far to the side of cliche for my tastes, but this is legit greasy sleaze at its finest, and the man’s full-throated menace is fully unhinged as opposed to stylized, and that’s as it should be
hold on
genuinely sweet and beautiful. like a lullaby from an old uncle who knows about stuff
in the neighborhood
as opposed to faux-drinking songs like “the piano has been drinking” which any real drinker knows aren’t drinking songs, this is a drinking song
jockey full of bourbon
without or without “down by law” this is hypnotic. and cool. so truly cool. a jailhouse nursery rhyme. a hobo lullaby. a folk song for trash can drummers
johnsburg, illinois
the most beautiful love song Waits has ever written
murder in the red barn
simultaneously funny and creepy in all the right southern gothic ways
old boyfriends
the best Waits song Waits never sung
on the nickel
the best Waits novel Waits never wrote. it IS a novel. cryptic and universal, sad and beautiful, joyful and bitter, childlike and aged … the song is really a staggering achievement. truly one of the great story songs of its age
pony
probably the best metaphor for longing Waits has ever given us
rain dogs
this is like Ironweed in song. ‘nuff said. either you get that or you don’t
ruby’s arms
the second most beautiful long song Waits ever wrote. theatrical where johnsburg is simple, theatrical where johnsburg is sparse, overwrought where johnsburg is restrained, it’s all the same heart-wrenching
shore leave
if there was a genre that was essentially southern gothic for pirates, this would be it’s musical bellwether
strange weather
if jacques brel had been american …
swordfishtrombone
another one of those “language all of its own” masterpieces. like with the afore-mentioned Wiseblood, or like Frankie Machine in The Man with the Golden Arm, this is a character that, once you’ve met him, will never leave your head
telephone call from istanbul
check out the live version of this on Big Time. you’ll see why this is on the list
temptation
every once in a while i am reminded how genuinely wise Waits can be. that once in a while is usually when i listen to this song. this is sort of Motown for beatniks, and Stax for reformed murderers
time
fuck Auld Lang Syne. give me Time, any time
tom traubert’s blues
the one truly great drunk era song that Waits produced. i mean great, as in, one of the truly great songs, period. I mean, Hoagy Carmichael great
way down in the hole
the street preacher is an american folk icon, and every great american songwriter has to try to evoke this character at least once. most of us try many times over, and few of us ever succeed, much as we try. Flannery did it with Wiseblood in book form. Mitchum did it for us in film with Night of the Hunter, and Waits does it here in song
yesterday is here
the goodnight song for the end of the world
