
It's a little bluesy, a little jazzy and all theater with a humorous approach. Yet, you can’t help but feel sympathy, or sometimes even empathy, for the characters Tom writes about in the first and third person. Small Change is a perfectly formed album exploring the experiences of people well versed in the seedier sides of society, and it's brimming with his rawest lyrics, which he sings with his heart on his sleeve. Tom also wears his lyrical influences on his sleeve, and to me comes off as Charles Bukowski crossed with Hubert Selby Jr. and Raymond Chandler, whom are impersonating a piano bar singer. But if you look past this facade, the music he sculpted was a superb blend of blues, jazz and its literary offshoot, beat poetry.
My favorite song on 'Small Change' is "Step Right Up", an upbeat number with Jim Hughart's smooth walking bassline, the jazz drumming courtesy of Shelly Manne and Tom playing the role of an amphetamine addled carnival barker rapidly firing out lyrics in a comical parody of sales pitches. It just might be his single best vocal delivery of his career, proving his voice does have a unique, charming niche which often gives the music much character it would be lacking without it.
Speaking of Shelly Manne, his tom-tom heavy drumming is sublime on "Pasties and G-String" which is drunken beat poetry ramblings about strippers, peepshows and softcore porn. As it turns out, Shelly had experience in this field; in his younger and leaner years, he drummed in strip clubs.
The title track is the favorite of many a Tom Waits fan, is an aggressively told story set to the score of a lone saxophone. Waits spits out lyrics about a violent street hustler who gets what's coming to him (Small Change got rained on with his own .38) with some lyrics that are strong, metaphorical and venomous all at once.
Oh, and there's a duet with Bette Midler on the song, "I Never Talk To Strangers"
It had low-brow shabby cocktail dives, open front liquor
stores, girly-shows and tattoo parlors that catered to workers and sailors from the nearby Long Beach Naval Shipyard.
While we're on the subject of tattoos, I got a tattoo at the legendary Bert Grimm's tattoo shop on The Pike from none other than Bert himself in 1969, more or less, on a dare. The tattoo is a peace sign, on my upper right arm. A few months later, while back in Brooklyn visiting my parents, my mother noticed it, when my tee shirt sleeve rode up and she went totally ballistic.
On the cover of 'Small Change' the stripper behind Tom is none other than Cassandra
Peterson who would later be known as Elvira, "Mistress of the Darkness,"
though Cassandra will not claim authenticity to this, as she claims she "can't remember".
Also
featured on the cover, is a glass bottle of Miller beer, a jar of Vaseline, an amber
pill bottle [no doubt Quaaludes, which would explain Cassandra not remembering - Ed.], a Floral Design Tissue Box, a copy of
Dxing Magazine, pack of Old Gold filtered cigarettes, can of Helen Reddy
Hair Spray, a small circular makeup mirror with cocaine residue, and a
box of Trojans... I'm sure there's much more, but this is this all I could
discern.
Here's another picture from the photoshoot.
Tom Waits - vocals, piano
Shelly Manne – drums
Lew Tabackin – tenor saxophone
Jim Hughart – bass
with:
Harry Bluestone – violin, concertmaster strings
Ed Lustgarten – cello
Jerry Yester – arranger and conductor of string section
For the freeload (a Japanese remastered limited edition reissue), tell us about some of the seedy places and dive bars that you have visited.




The Rat in Boston was particularly seedy. There is a bar I visited in Fresno a few years back with a very strange Chinese mural behind the bar. Seedy.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite dive bar in LA back in the day was Steve Boardner's. But it has been gentrified in recent decades.
The Canned Heat connection is that sometimes Larry "The Mole" Taylor plays bass on some of Tom's albums. If my memory serves me.
ReplyDeleteI used to go to a biker bar called The Screaming Chicken in Devore, CA.
I lived in pre-Tik Tok, pre-digital nomad Bangkok for a year, over fifteen years ago now, so I've experienced peak bar seed. But the scariest bar was probably the Heart Of Darkness, in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. That was as heavy as the name. I also knew the legendary Broken Bricks in the same city, where the owner, a scraggy Brit Marxist, once sent his girlfriend (who slept in an alcove in the back wall) out for a beer when I ordered one, because he had none left. That place, one of the greatest and most characterful bars in the world, is now a Starbucks. God bless America.
ReplyDeleteHere's Broken Bricks, in its pomp:
Deletehttps://imgur.com/a/NPe7WI3
It says that it closed in 2008, So I lived in Bangkok closer to twenty years ago. If you want a description of what it was like, you can read Baddha.
'Baddha' is my second favorite, 'Provenance' is my favorite.
Delete'Provenance' would have been published had it been a first novel by not an Old White Guy. OWGs are on no publisher's wants list. Not bitter about it - this is the way things are. I had my run of luck.
DeleteFor purposes of publishing, declare yourself "Non-binary". Tell "The Suits" you don't identify with any gender.
Delete"Non-binary" is in...
I wish it were this easy. Agents have a very specific series of hoops for prospective authors, and I can't even lift my leg through the first.
DeleteThanks for capturing what always nagged me about Waits -- the 'method acting' his way thru his (early) career. Not being a gritty urban dweller, I've never gotten the 'romance' of stuff like his (or Springsteen's early stuff). Having said that, I've loved 'Step Right Up' since it came out, and I still smile every time I hear it, still smile to think of his appearances on 'Fernwood 2Nite' in the '70s (RIP Martin Mull and Fred Willard and Frank DeVol), where I first heard (Waits speak) the line "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy", and love a handful of his numbers since then ('Cold Cold Ground' and 'I Don't Wanna Grow Up' immediately come to mind).
ReplyDeleteNever being a drinker or a fan of being around drunks (or even undrunk people, for that matter....), I've limited experience on the dive bar front. But Happy Jacks in Morro Bay (just up Hwy 1 from Farq's beloved Pismo Beach) comes to mind, as one of my brothers nicknamed it Star Wars back in the day (based on its clientele's resemblance to the cantina's clientele from the movie), and two other brothers had a gun pulled on them there. It's now name-changed and upscaled, alas, but undoubtedly safer to patronize.
C in California
Babs' method acting connection is brilliant. I put Waits in the same freak tent as James Dean, and John Steinbeck, whose mummy and daddy bought him a flower-girt cottage so he could write about the Depression in comfort.
DeleteI once worked with a copywriter who had a condition in which his body made too many red blood cells obliging him to periodically have have some of his blood removed. I'm not sure if he got the riff from Waits's record, but the standard line he used with the medical workers he saw was, "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than another damned phlebotomy."
DeleteUsed to live across the street from Dirty Frank's, Philly. The dinner special was a Yuengling draft and a bag of Herr's chips. It was divier during the crack epidemic but now it's a semi-respectical part of the Gayborhood. Still cheap and populated by the local art school students, the newspaper workers have moved on. Rumor has it that a young Robert Zimmerman was bounced out of there for stoned obnoxiousness.
ReplyDeleteA couple of places come to mind. The first was a back street cinema that I used to frequent as a teenager back in the 1970's. Anyone who remembers will know that in the UK the 70's was a disaster for the Movie & Cinema industry with literally 1000's of cinema's closing across the UK. However this one kept its doors open by serving up Sunday special showings which usually combined a Hammer Horror movie with some sort of adult comedy (eg Percy) or other type of adult film (a version of the The Canterbury Tales comes to mind) and they weren't to fussy about how old you were within reason and needless to say the grubby decor was in desperate need of renovation. Sadly the cinema eventually went under and the last I heard having been a 'fellowship hall' it. was up for sale again.
ReplyDeleteThe second was a jazz piano bar in / under Waterloo station in London which I frequented in the late 1980's which had again seen much better days. From the outside it looked like you were just walking into another of the London's Underground older stations but when you got to the bottom of the semi circular stair well there was this piano bar with dimmed lighting, furniture out of the 1940's proped up with beer mats with a small stage and a small grand piano (played by one of the bar staff) and attracted the sort of mixture of people you'd expect at a mainline railway station. As it was tucked in the furthest corner of the station it was never really busy and you could always get a seat and despite its shabby nature it had so much character and atmosphere. Saldy it got bought out by one of the pub chains and is now one of those dreadful bright indentikit pubs with bad beer and no soul
We also had a place called 3rd Street Station that was very close to Norton Air Force Base in San Bernardino that was always full of drunken flyboys & cowboys. People flashing their tits, including the owner's wife, and people standing on stools and sticking their heads in spinning ceiling fans.
ReplyDeleteThen there was a bar within walking distance of my parent's house that had bought a keg of Old Peculiar and their customers didn't like it. Eventually, to get rid of it, they offered it for 10 cents a glass, large or small. Well we liked it. Plus they had darts.
One night at the Screaming Chicken, a short blond girl was filling beer mugs and throwing them at the wall. Breaking the mugs. That was how we met the owner. It was she doing it.
ReplyDeleteThe Screaming Chicken is located in Devore on a cut off island of Route 66. It used to be a gas station.
I love Tom's debut album before he went all in on the grumbly barfly thing...
ReplyDeleteNever been to a particular seedy place, I reckon. Closest was probably when I entered what turned out to be some weird goth shop in London and got badgered by the owner into buying one of his shirts.
First up, great bit of screed, thanks Babs.
ReplyDeleteOn my first visit to Glasgow in the 80’s, I was taken to a small bar (possibly The Station Bar, Yoker), it was an afternoon drink, and the building had tiny 6inch high windows, and nothing to recommend it except for cheap drink. There was an elderly man drinking at the bar with a big scab on his head who looked like he’d had a heavy night or decade before. Despite being with a local I think we moved on quite quickly.
Slightly rough looking bars, we’ve had or got a few around here on the south coast of England, but the good thing is they’re generally safe.
Chaplins Cellar Bar in Boscombe (nr Bournemouth), is located in one of the roughest areas around here, it’s been open for about 30 years, and is a great place to meet people, watch bands or have a meal. There is an upstairs bar, outside garden and stage in the cellar. It is very instagram friendly (checkout the recent outside paint job), inside a bit shabby/chic but everywhere there is something interesting to look at, if you were to visit Boscombe, I’d recommend checking it out. Btw I have no connection to the place.
Also locally we have another similar place called The Anvil (a bit rough), catering for mainly heavy bands downstairs and a nicer bar upstairs. I have tinnitus from a wonderful gig there by Honky who were an offshoot of The Butthole Surfers. Tip to self, always take earplugs to small gigs.
I lived in NO for 60 years. I spent most of my life in seedy bars, including one that my maternal family owned, Huerstel's. When I was a frosh in HS, i made the varsity football team. We had our own lockers where we stored our gear. One day I go to my locker to get dressed for practice, and my helmet is missing. Go to practice and had to run laps in the rest of my gear for not having a helmet - ran until I went down from a minor case of heat stroke. Go home and there's a message that I need to go see my uncle at the bar. Go to the bar and he hands me my helmet. The brothers that ran the school I attended were behind on their tab, and bartered the balance with some school gear, including my fing helmet.
ReplyDeleteAnother infamous bar, Sandy's was located about a mile away, and across from the river levee. Its clientele was mostly longshoreman who worked the nearby dock. Got a call from a buddy one night (around '78) who was too drunk to drive himself home, and wanted me to give him a ride. When I get there, he was in a pretty nasty dispute with about half of the bar flies. I get him calmed, buy the guys he was beefing with a round as a peace offering, and escort him out to my car. Get to the car, and there's a fing axe implanted through the middle of my windshield.
The Roxy Burlesque was Cleveland's only Burlesque Theatre of the classic stripper variety. As a high school student it was equivalent to Mecca. No problem getting in at 16. It had theatre seating having morphed from a movie house. The feature stripper (or 'StripTeaser') was possibly around my mother's age at the time. The place smelled; had old men sitting alone; and provided a most anti-erotic experience.
ReplyDeleteThe facade was famously tacky with it large posters that featured coming attractions. It was closed and torn down in 1977. Nowadays Cleveland supports a thriving, colorful, campy burlesque scene.
hmm posted a comment twice and both times it ultimately got removed?!?
ReplyDeleteNot removed, pmac. For what ever reason, Blogger thought your posts were spam.
DeleteWeird. Oh well......
DeleteEven weirder, once or twice Blogger has flagged my posts as spam.
DeleteI think pmacs comments are mostly spam, anyway.
DeleteActually, I'm a Russian bot. выпивать до
Delete@Farq - btw, have you watched the finale of Presumed Innocent? Curious as to what you thought about the ending. Curiously, there's going to be a 2nd season.
DeleteSPOILER ALERT!!
DeleteIt's great until the verdict is read. The double twist "reveal" that follows is unnecessary - the first "you did it" is dramatic and convincing enough. And the feelgood montage at the end leaves a sour taste - there's a psychotic murderer loose in the house and, er, Happy Thanksgiving folks! Maybe this is addressed in Season Two, or maybe the second season will be as shit as every other second season of everything else (White Lotus and Reacher excepted).
Yeah, it made as much sense as if they had a spaceship land, aliens get out, and announce that they did it.
DeleteWhat made it for me were the performances of Peter Sarsgaard and O-T Fagbenie. Gyllenhaal was good, but less sympathetic than Sarsgaard, whi I was rooting for all the way through. The spurned lover on a mission to avenge the murder of his heart's desire ... that was the real arc happening here. I'd love to see Fagbenie (wotta Hancock!) play a mob boss.
DeleteThey both were very good. I didn't realize that JJ Abrams was involved until it was over. Would have made more sense if at the end, a plane crashed and Matthew Fox emerges and yells, "we have to go back..."
DeleteNot really seedy, but I always loved the scrawl above the urinal at Cheatham St. Warehouse (San Marcos TX) that read; Dont throw your butts in here...its makes them soggy & hard to relight.
ReplyDelete-notBob
I grew up in Junction City, KS, right next to Fort Riley, home of The Big Red One (Infantry). Local notorious & infamous location was 2 blocks of nefarious businesses that was East Ninth Street. A guy made a movie about it, "Ninth Street", I don't think it did well & I've never seen it. It had Martin Sheen and Isaac Hayes & was Kaycee Moore's last film.
ReplyDeleteAs a young teen in the late 60's & early 70's East Ninth was the definition of seedy, at least in my mind. Treacherous times, racially charged with the army post right next door and plenty of young draftees awaiting being shipped out to Viet Nam, looking to blow off lots & lots of steam. Anything goes is what happened on East Ninth. Thanks Babs
I have been living in Bangkok from the mid 1980s to the present day, but my seedy bar days are definitely past tense. The seediest place in Pat Pong at the time was probably the upstairs 'Kangeroo Bar' where 'special services' were available right at the bar... Nana Plaza, Soi Zero, Soi Cowboy, all had their own kind of dubious bars... I do recall a certain place called 'After Skool' which featured a 'naughty boys corner'...
ReplyDeleteTom is cool, I saw him live in Holland during his Heartattack & Vine album tour!
It was a scene that did you unbelievable good for a while, perhaps when you needed it most. The trick is knowing when to walk away.
DeleteLink
ReplyDeletehttps://workupload.com/file/9NkMUvRv7q6
Harp Bar Belfast, a very crappy strip bar by day, punk rock venue by night with added violence from the paramilitary's
ReplyDeleteYour mention of The Pike in Long Beach stirred memories of an acid trip in the late 60s in which we rashly dropped Orange Sunshine as we took freeways down to the park, a place with a sinister reputation for knife fights and cholas who kept razors in their beehive dos. We were coming on big time when we hit the Nu Pike, as I remember it being called in that era. Drunk sailors, shrieking teenieboppers, bikers puking up Ripple and god-knows-what, music blaring from dozens of rides and carnie attractions, it was Fellini-style bedlam and the acid was amping everything up to 11. Closest I ever came to a full-blown bummer. trip
ReplyDeleteSeedy places? How about anything on Rue Bourbon in NOLA in the '70s. Dive bars? There aren't bars in Mississippi that aren't dive bars. My personal fave was the Homestead (circa 1973-1977) in Hattiesburg. It was the original home base of Omar & the Howlers.
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