My 11 year old has, in recent days, discovered the gruff and poetic majesty of Tom Waits. He can talk at length of how the sound doesn’t match the face, or of the four different voices he has, or how he can make music out of squealing car tires and creaky piano stools.
This morning on the regular commute to work and school he suggested he should pick some music. He plugged in his MP3 player and out came Tom Traubert’s Blues which played while we were slowed in traffic. Not a word passed between us as the silence deepened and Waits’ voice filled the car. It was transcendent…seriously. And when Waits collapsed into that final note, we both shook our heads in unison.
Here he is from 1977, and it’s worth the whole 7+ minutes.