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Tom Waits: Big Time

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Island Records
Released: 1988
Time:
 54:15
Category: Progressive Rock
Producer(s): Tom Waits, Kathleen Brennan
Rating: ******.... (6/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.anti.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2002.05.03
Price in €: 10,99



 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] 16 Shells from a Thirty-Ought Six (T.Waits) - 4:10
[2] Red Shoes (T.Waits) - 4:06
[3] Underground (T.Waits) - 2:20
[4] Cold Cold Ground (T.Waits) - 3:18
[5] Straight to the Top (L.Cohen/T.Waits) - 2:45
[6] Yesterday Is Here (K.Brennan/T.Waits) - 2:57
[7] Way Down in the Hole (T.Waits) - 4:26
[8] Falling Down (T.Waits) - 4:12
[9] Strange Weather (K.Brennan/T.Waits) - 3:20
[10] Big Black Mariah (T.Waits) - 2:41
[11] Rain Dogs (T.Waits) - 3:52
[12] Train Song (T.Waits) - 2:54
[13] Johnsburg, Illinois (T.Waits) - 1:32
[14] Ruby's Arms (T.Waits) - 4:44
[15] Telephone Call from Istanbul (T.Waits) - 4:15
[16] Clap Hands (T.Waits) - 4:43
[17] Gun Street Girl (T.Waits) - 4:00
[18] Time (T.Waits) - 4:00

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


TOM WAITS - Organ, Composer, Vocals, Producer

MICHAEL BLAIR - Percussion, Bongos, Drums
RALPH CARNEY - Clarinet, Horn, Saxophone, Baritone
GREG COHEN - Electric Bass Guitar, Composer, Alto Horn
MARC RIBOT - Banjo, Guitar, Trumpet
WILLIE SCHWARZ - Accordion, Conga, Hammond B3 Organ, Sitar

LARRY TAYLOR - Bass on [8]
RICHARD HAYWARD - Drums on [8]
FRED TACKETT - Guitar on [8]

KATHLEEN BRENNAN - Producer
CHRIS BLACKWELL - Executive Producer
BIFF DAVIES - Recording, Mixing
JOHN OSTER - Mixing
CATHARINE MASTERS - Production Coordination
MIKE VRAVER - Associate Engineer
JACK CRYMES - Associate Engineer
MARK ESCHELMAN - Associate Engineer
DOUG FIELD - Associate Engineer
DAVID GLOVER - Associate Engineer
MIKE KLOSTER - Associate Engineer
DAVID KNIGHT - Associate Engineer
SCOTT WOODMAN - Associate Engineer
BILLY YODELMAN - Associate Engineer
HOWIE WEINBERG - Mastering
LUCINDA COWELL - Cover Art
BRUCE PETERSON - Backcover Art

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1988 CD Island 422-842470-2
1988 LP Island 422-842470-1
1988 CS Island 422-842470-4



Big Time is an 18-track live album running nearly 68 minutes, its material drawn mostly from Tom Waits' trio of recent studio albums, Swordfishtrombones, Rain Dogs, and Franks Wild Years. (One track, "Falling Down," is a previously unissued studio recording. The performance of "Strange Weather" marks Waits' first recording of a song he and his wife, Kathleen Brennan, wrote for Marianne Faithfull.) It's challenging music, made somewhat more accessible in a live context. Waits' performances tended to be somewhat over the top on the studio versions of these songs, but before a live audience his theatrics seem more appropriate, and he even includes a mini-set of piano ballads. Still, it takes him until the seventh tune, "Way Down in the Hole," to bring the audience to life, and he rarely speaks, in marked contrast to the earlier live-in-the-studio album Nighthawks at the Diner. But Big Time makes a useful sampler of Waits' later work that might enable a listener to determine whether to invest in the studio recordings.

William Ruhlmann



Falling Down
Appears On Big Time [1988]

"And she wants you to steal and get caught/For she loves you for all that you are not." The line is classic Tom Waits: original, universal, humorous, and tragic all at once. "Falling Down" is one of two original songs — one a studio recording and one a live recording — sandwiched into the mostly live versions of previously released songs on the Big Time LP. The other is the live version of "Strange Weather," a song originally intended for Marianne Faithful. Waits wrote "Falling Down" after the sessions for his Rain Dogs album and was performing versions of it as early as 1985. After getting off the road he went into an L.A. studio to record it.

The music has an airy, almost springtime feel to it, with a bittersweet melody over an accompaniment of pump organ, upright bass, sparse drums, and minimal guitar. Waits strings three verses together with three different images that seem to be metaphors for being on the losing end, including the final verse containing a very Waits-ian conceit of a demolition of an old hotel where "they took all the windows and they took all the doorknobs/And they hauled it away in a couple of days." Thus, the listener gets a concrete piece of Americana with which to identify.

But it is the first verse which sets the tone for the song as an old-time church hymn, an almost evangelic testament to the need to let one's defenses down to let love/light in: "I Come 500 miles just to see a halo...Well I opened my eyes/I was blind as can be/Well you give a man luck, he must fall in the sea." These words — along with the passing mention of "St. Petersberg" — clearly resonate with religious iconography.

"Falling Down" is a strong song that would have been convincing as a single on many of Waits' albums. The melody and chorus refrain are catchy in a very pop way. Perhaps its status as a break in the live action of Big Time allows "Falling Down" to shine as a hidden gem.

Holly Cole recorded a rather somnolent version on her 1995 collection of Tom Waits material, Temptation. She valiantly attempts an original interpretation, but seems to be at a loss, never convincingly inhabiting the song.

Bill Janovitz

All-Music Guide, © 1992 - 2002 AEC One Stop Group, Inc.



The setting may just as well be a small back-alley barroom in the seedy section of any large city, but the credits tell otherwise. Recorded live in five different cities, Big Time showcases the passion and playfulness of Tom Waits' live shows, the part of his brilliance that can not be fully produced on a studio album. The bluesy influence, combined with Waits' trademark gritty rasp, evokes Chicago in the 1930s, and if your imagination is strong enough, his captivating delivery may just take you there. These live tracks are both lilting and uplifting, with rousing versions of songs culled mostly from Waits' last three albums: Franks Wild Years, Rain Dogs and Swordfishtrombones. It's difficult to ignore any cuts, but check out "Rain Dogs," "Telephone Call From Istanbul," "`16 Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six," "Big Black Mariah," and the previously unreleased "Strange Weather" and "Falling Down." Also keep an eye open for the film version, which includes 21 tracks and lots of interesting footage to bridge the songs-it should be in theaters shortly.

College Media Inc. - CMJ New Music Report Issue: 154 - Sep 23, 1988



Tom Waits ist immer eine Träne wert. Messerscharf beobachtet er die Ver- lierer am Straßenrand und quält seine rauhe Stimme durch liedgewordene De- pressionen. "Big Time" machte der Amerikaner vor allem durch brillante Ar- rangements zu einem exzellenten Konzertmitschnitt von fünf Stationen. Ein Meisterwerk. ** Klang: schräg

© Audio



Live auf der Bühne ist der Charles Bukowski des Rock-Underground nicht zu bremsen: Da klingt Tom Waits' Spirituosen-gestählte Stimme gleich noch kaputter, da wimmert seine Orgel noch kläglicher, und die ausgezeichnete Band - mit Little-Feat-Drummer Dichie Hayward, Bassist Larry Taylor und Fred Tackett an der Gitarre - spielt sich erst richtig frei. Die CD hat eine Nuance mehr Baß und vier Bonus-Tracks. LP-Kritik: stereoplay 11/88

© Stereoplay
 

 L y r i c s


16 SHELLS FROM A THIRTY-OUGHT-SIX

I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
and a Black Crow snuck through
a hole in the sky
so I spent all my buttons on an
old pack mule
and I made me a ladder from
a pawn shop marimba
and I leaned it up against
a dandelion tree

And I filled me a sachel
full of old pig corn
and I beat me a billy
from an old French horn
and I kicked that mule
to the top of the tree
and I blew me a hole
'bout the size of a kickdrum
and I cut me a switch
from a long branch elbow

Chorus
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six

Well I slept in the holler
of a dry creek bed
and I tore out the buckets
from a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
with the strings of a Washburn
stretched like a clothes line
you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole

Repeat Chorus

Now I hold him prisoner
in a Washburn jail
that stapped on the back
of my old kick mule
strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just
to drive him crazy
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Repeat Chorus


RED SHOES BY THE DRUGSTORE

She wore red shoes by the drugstore
as the rain splashed the nickel
spilled like chablis along the midway
theres a little bluejay
in a red dress, on a sad night

one straw in a rootbeer
a compact with a cracked mirror
and a bottle of evening in paris perfume

he told her to wait in by the magazines
he had to take care of some buisness it seems
bring a raincoat and a suitcase
and your dark eyes
and wear those red shoes

theres a dark huddle at the bus stop
umbrellas arranged in a sad bouquet
li'l cesaer got caught
he was going down to second
he was cooled
changing stations on the chamber
to steal a diamond
from a jewelry store for his baby
he loved the way she looked in those red shoes

she waited by the drugstore
cesaer had never been this late before
and the dogs bayed the moon
and rattled their chains
and the cold jingle of taps in a puddle
was the burglar alarm
snitchin on ceasar

now the rain washes memories from the sidewalks
and the hounds splash down the nickel
full of soldiers
and santa claus is drunk in the ski room
and it's christmas eve in a sad cafe
when the moon gets this way
there's a little blue jay
by the newstand
wearing red shoes

so meet me tonight by the drugstore
we're goin out tonight
wear your red shoes


UNDERGROUND

Rattle Big Black Bones
in the Danger zone
there's a rumblin' groan
down below
there's a big dark town
it's a place I've found
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND
they're alive, they're awake
while the rest of the world is asleep
below the mine shaft roads
it will all unfold
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND
all the roots hang down
swing from town to town
they are marching around
down under your boots
all the trucks unload
beyond the gopher holes
there's a world going on
UNDERGROUND


COLD COLD GROUND

Crest fallen sidekick in an old cafe
never slept with a dream before he had to go away
there's a bell in the tower
Uncle Ray bought a round
don't worry about the army
in the cold cold ground
now don't be a cry baby
when there's wood in the shed
there's a bird in the chimmney
and a stone in my bed
when the road's washed out
they pass the bottle around
and wait in the arms
of the cold cold ground
cold cold ground
there's a ribbon in the willow
and a tire swing rope
and a briar patch of berries
takin over the slope
the cat'll sleep in the mailbox
and we'll never go to town
til we bury every dream in
the cold cold ground
cold cold ground
gimme a Winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
blow the roof off the goat barn
let it roll down the hill
the piano is firewood
times square is a dream
I find we'll lay down together in the cold cold ground
cold cold ground
cold cold ground
call the cops on the Breedloves
bring a bible and a rope
and a whole box of rebel
and a bar of soap
make a pile of trunk tires
and burn 'em all down
bring a dollar with you baby
in the cold cold ground
cold cold ground
take a weathervane rooster
throw rocks at his head
stop talking to the neighbors
til we all go dead
beware of my temper
and the dog that I've found
break all the windows in the
cold cold ground
cold cold ground


STRAIGHT TO THE TOP

I'm going straight to the top
oh yea up where the air is
fresh and clean
I'm going straight up to the top
if you know me, you know what I mean
I can't let sorrow
try and pull ol' Frankie down
live for tomorrow I have found you
I'm going straight up to the top
up where the air is fresh and clean
i know that I will never stop, oh no
until I know I'm wild and free
just like a champagne bubble
pop pop pop
I'm like those birdies
high up in the trees
I can't let sorrow
pull ol' Frankie down
live for tomorrow
I have found you
I'm going straight up to the top oh yeah
up where the air is fresh and clean


YESTERDAY IS HERE

If you want money in your pocket
and a top hat on your head
a hot meal on your table
and a blanket on your bed
well today is grey skies
tomorrow is tears
you'll have to wait til yesterday is here
Well I'm going to New York City
and I'm leaving on a train
and if you want to stay behind and
wait til I come back again
well today is grey skies
tomorrow is tears
you'll have to wait til yesterday is here
If you want to go
where the rainbows end
you'll have to say goodbye
all our dreams come true
baby up ahead
and it's out where your memories lie
well the road's out before me
and the moon is shining bright
what I want you to remember
as I disappear tonight
today is grey skies
tomorrow's tears
you'll have to wait til yesterday is here


WAY DOWN IN THE HOLE

When you walk through the garden
you gotta watch your back
well I beg your pardon
walk the straight and narrow track
if you walk with Jesus
he's gonna save your soul
you gotta keep the devil
way down in the hole
he's got the fire and the fury
at his command
well you don't have to worry
if you hold on to Jesus hand
we'll all be safe from Satan
when the thunder rolls
just gotta help me keep the devil
way down in the hole
All the angels sing about Jesus' mighty sword
and they'll shield you with their wings
and keep you close to the lord
don't pay heed to temptation
for his hands are so cold
you gotta help me keep the devil
way down in the hole


FALLING DOWN

I have come 500 miles just to see a halo
Come from St. Petersburg, Scarlett and me
Well I open my eyes, I was blind as can be
When you give a man luck, he must fall in the sea
And she wants you to steal and get caught
For she loves you for all that you are not
When you're falling down, falling down
When you're falling down, falling down, falling down

You forget all the roses, don't come around on Sunday
She's not gonna choose you for standing so tall
Go on and take a swig of that poison and like it
And don't ask for silverware, don't ask for nothing
Go on and put your ear to the ground
You know you will be hearing that sound......falling down.
You're falling down, falling down
Falling down, Falling down, falling down

When you're falling down, falling down, falling down

Go on down and see that wrecking ball come swinging on along
Everyone knew that hotel was a goner
They broke all the windows, they took all the door knobs
And they hauled it away in a couple of days
Now someone yell timber and take off your hat
It's a lot smaller down here on the ground
You're falling down, falling down, falling down
Falling down, falling down, falling down

Someone's falling down, falling down, falling down
Falling down, falling down, falling down


STRANGE WEATHER

Will you take me across the Channel,
London Bridge is falling down.
Strange a woman tries to save
What a man will try to drown.
And he's the rain that they predicted,
Its the forecast every time.
The rose has died because you picked it
And I believe that brandy's mine.

And all over the world
Strangers
Talk only about the weather.
All over the world
It's the same
It's the same
It's the same.

The world is getting flatter,
The sky is falling all around.
And nothing is the matter
For I never cry in town.
And a love like ours, my dear,

Is best measured when its down.
And I never buy umbrellas,
For there's always one around.

And all over the world Strangers Talk only about the weather. All over the world It's the same
It's the same
It's the same.

And you know that its beginning,
And you know that its the end
When once again we are strangers
And the fog comes rolling in.

And all over the world
Strangers
Talk only about the weather.
All over the world
It's the same
It's the same
It's the same.


BIG BLACK MARIAH

Well cutting through the cane break, rattling the sill
Thunder that the rain makes when the shadow tops the hill
Big light on the back street, hill to ever more
Packing down the ladder with the hammer to the floor
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the Big Black Mariah
Here come the Big Black Mariah, I seen the big black Ford

Well he's all boxed up on a red belle dame
Hunted Black Johnny with a blind man's cane
A yellow bullet with a rag out in the wind
An old blind tiger, got an old bell Jim
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the Big Black Mariah
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the big black Ford

Sent to the skies on a Benny Jag Blue
Off to bed without his supper like a Linda brides do
He got to do the story with the old widow Jones
Got a wooden coat, this boy is never coming home
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the Big Black Mariah
Here come the Big Black Mariah, I seen that big black Ford
Cut through the canebrake, oh yeah

Well he's all boxed up on a red belle dame
Flat Blue Johnny with a blind man's cane
A hundred yellow bullets shook a rag out in the wind
An old blind tiger, on a bell you win
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the Big Black Mariah
Here come the Big Black Mariah, here come the big black Ford


TRAIN SONG

Well I broke down in E. St. Louis
On the Kansas City line
and I drunk up all my money
that I borrowed every time
and I fell down at the derby
and now the night's black as a crow
It was a train that took me away from here
but a train can't bring me home
What made my dreams so hollow
was standing at the depot
with a steeple full of swallows
that could never ring the bell
and I come ten thousand miles away
with not one thing to show
well it was a train that took me away from here
but a train can't bring me home
I remember when I left
without bothering to pack
you know I up and left with
just the clothes I had on my back
now I'm sorry for what I've done
and I'm out here on my own
well it was a train that took me away from
here but a train can't bring me home


JOHNSBURG, ILLINOIS

She's my only true love
she's all that I think of
look here in my wallet
that's her
She grew up on a farm there
there's a place on my arm
where I've written her name
next to mine
you see I just can't
live without her
and I'm her only boy
and she grew up outside McHenry
in Johnsburg, Illinois


RUBY'S ARMS

I will leave behind all of my clothes,
I wore when i was with you,
all I need's my railroad boots,
and my leather jacket,
as i say goodbye to ruby's arms,
although my heart is breaking,
i will steal away out through your
blinds, for soon you will be waking.

The morning light has washed your face,
and everything is turning blue now,
hold on to your pillow case
there's nothing i can do now,
as i say goodbye to ruby's arms,
you'll find another soldier,
and i swear to god by christmas,
there'll be someone else to hold you.

The only thing i'm taking is
the scarf off of your clothesline,
i'll hurry past your chest of drawers,
and your broken window chimes,
as i say goodbye
i'll say goodbye,
say goodbye to ruby's arms.

i'll feel my way down the darken hall,
and out into the morning,
the hobos at the freightyards,
have kept their fires burning,
so jesus christ this goddamn rain,
will someone put me on a train,
i'll never kiss your lips again,
or break your heart,
as i say goodbye
i'll say goodbye,
say goodbye to ruby's arms.


TELEPHONE CALL FROM ISTANBUL

All night long on the broken glass
livin in a medicine chest
mediteromanian hotel back
sprawled across a roll top desk
the monkey rode the blade on an
overhead fan
they paint the donkey blue if you pay
I got a telephone call from Istanbul
my baby's coming home today
will you sell me one of those if I shave my head
get me out of town is what fireball said
never trust a man in a blue trench coat
never drive a car when you're dead
Saturday's a festival
Friday's a gem
dye your hair yellow
and raise your hem
follow me to beulah's on
dry creek road
I got to wear the hat that my baby done sewed
take me down to buy a tux
on red rose bear
got to cut a hole in the day
I got a telephone call from Istanbul
my baby's coming home today


CLAP HANDS

Sane, sane, they're all insane,
fireman's blind, the conductor is lame
A Cincinnati jacket and a sad-luck dame
Hanging out the window with a bottle full of rain
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

Said roar, roar, the thunder and the roar
Son of a bitch is never coming back here no more
The moon in the window and a bird on the pole
We can always find a millionaire to shovel all the coal
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

Said steam, steam, a hundred bad dreams
Going up to Harlem with a pistol in his jeans
A fifty-dollar bill inside a palladin's hat
And nobody's sure where Mr. Knickerbocker's at

Roar, roar, the thunder and the roar
Son of a bitch is never coming back here no more
Moon in the window and a bird on the pole
Can always find a millionaire to shovel all the coal
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

I said steam, steam, a hundred bad dreams
Going up to Harlem with a pistol in his jeans
A fifty-dollar bill inside a palladin's hat
And nobody's sure where Mr. Knickerbocker's at

Shine, shine, a Roosevelt dime
All the way to Baltimore and running out of time
Salvation Army seemed to wind up in the hole
They all went to heaven in a little row boat
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands


GUN STREET GIRL

Falling James in the Tahoe mud
Stick around to tell us all the tale
Well he fell in love with a Gun Street girl
And now he's dancing in the Birmingham jail
Dancing in the Birmingham jail

He took a hundred dollars off a slaughterhouse Joe
Brought a brand new Michigan twenty-gauge
He got all liquored up on that road house corn
Blew a hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette
A hole in the hood of a yellow Corvette

He bought a second-hand Nova from a Cuban Chinese
And dyed his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco
With a pawnshop radio, quarter past four
He left Waukegan at the slamming of the door
Left Waukegan at the slamming of the door

I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

He's sitting in a sycamore in St. John's wood
Soaking day-old bread in kerosene
Well he was blue as a robin's egg and brown as a hog
He's staying out of circulation 'til the dogs get tired
Out of circulation 'til the dogs get tired

Shadow fixed the toilet with an old trombone
He never get up in the morning on a Saturday
Sitting by the Erie with a bull-whipped dog
Telling everyone he saw, "They went that-a-way, boys"
Telling everyone he saw, "They went that-a-way"

Now the rain's like gravel on an old tin roof
And the Burlington Northern pulling out of the world
Now a head full of bourbon and a dream in the straw
And a Gun Street girl was the cause of it all
A Gun Street girl was the cause of it all

Well he's riding in the shadow by the St. Joe ridge
Hearing the click-clack tapping of a blind man's cane
He was pulling into Baker on a New Year's Eve
One eye on a pistol and the other on the door
One eye on a pistol and the other on the door

Miss Charlotte took her satchel down to King Fish Row
Smuggled in a brand new pair of alligator shoes
With her fireman's raincoat and her long yellow hair
Well they tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
They tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire

I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home

Banging on the table with an old tin cup
Sing I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again
Never kiss a Gun Street girl again
I'll never kiss a Gun Street girl again

I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home


TIME

Well the smart money's on Harlow and the moon is in the street
And the shadow boys are breaking all the laws
And you're east of East Saint Louis and the wind is making speeches
And the rain sounds like a round of applause
And Napoleon is weeping in a carnival saloon
His invisible fiancee's in the mirror
And the band is going home, it's raining hammers, it's raining nails
And it's true there's nothing left for him down here

And it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

And they all pretend they're orphans and their memory's like a train
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
And the things you can't remember tell the things you can't forget
That history puts a saint in every dream

Well she said she'd stick around until the bandages came off
But these mama's boys just don't know when to quit
And Mathilda asks the sailors "Are those dreams or are those prayers?"
So close your eyes, son, and this won't hurt a bit

Oh it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

Well things are pretty lousy for a calendar girl
The boys just dive right off the cars and splash into the street
And when they're on a roll she pulls a razor from her boot
And a thousand pigeons fall around her feet
So put a candle in the window and a kiss upon his lips
As the dish outside the window fills with rain
Just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart
And pay the fiddler off 'til I come back again

Oh it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time
And it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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