Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 20/11/06
Label: Anti-Records

With 2004's "Real Gone" being harder to love than a ginger stepchild, many fans of the bourbon marinated poet of the pool hall and diner may be well be worried about this triple album of rarities and new material. But they should reassure themselves that this is one of his most satisfying releases in years. Thematically, we're in similar territory to Johnny Cash's "Love, God, Murder" compilation, focussing in on three of the themes that are associated with the artist.

The first disc in Waits' case is called "Brawlers" and takes us on a neon drenched cab ride across town as seen through the eyes of Charles Bukowski or William Burroughs. His greatest trick is to reinvent primal rock, jazz and blues in a way that makes it sound as freshly minted as grime or dubstep. "Lie To Me" is rockabilly recorded in an echoing dancehall and "LowDown" reinvents the 12-bar blues. However, some of the fighting described is taking place on a larger stage.

"The Road To Peace" describes in painful clarity the last journey of a Palestinian suicide bomber as George W Bush plays chess and poses for the press ten thousand miles away. His gaze is so unwavering he makes Thom Yorke look like a monkey neither hearing, seeing or speaking evil. But the greatest song on this disc, one of Waits' finest, is a cover of Philip Baptiste's "Sea of Love'. The song, which concerns New Orleans, was originally recorded in 1988 for a film of the same name, but now has an added poignancy because of recent events.

"Bawlers" sees Waits dimming the lights, donning a battered pork-pie hat and sitting down at the piano for a selection of tear-jerkers. Like comparable modern songwriting talents Nick Cave and Shane MacGowan, Waits has a sentimental streak running through him a mile or so wide. But as there isn't a drop of mawkishness or cynical heart string tugging going on here, instead revel at the graveyard mambo of "A Little Drop Of Poison", featuring glass bottle solo and musical saw.

However, perhaps most interesting is the third CD, entitled "Bastards", which mines his love of Brechtian cabaret, carnival atmospherics and sadistic story telling even further than ever. "Army Ants" explores the terrifying mating rituals of insect sex; "Children's Story" is the tale of the last kid left on Earth and is guaranteed to instil insomnia in the young, while "Dog Door" continues his obsession with grungey sounding hip hop beats.

So, it seems "Orphans" is that rarity of an album: one that will satisfy hardcore fans as well as the uninitiated.

    by John Doran