There is a track on Tom Waits's latest album entitled "Calliope", for which, not surprisingly, he played that same instrument. "It's a 1929 pneumatic calliope with 57 whistles," he said in a recent interview to promote the CD. "It's no wonder they used them in the circus, it can be heard up to five miles away. The studio is in a canyon, we were in an old house there and people in neighboring communities complained of the noise. While playing, your face turns red, blood pressure goes up, your hair sticks up like Einstein's and you're sweating like you ran a mile, what's better than that?"
Indeed, nothing is better than hearing the aging musician stumble onto another carnival-esque instrument and tackle it for all it's worth. On Blood Money, Waits favours earthy, skeletal romps and clanking, sombre airs, simply because he feels like it. There is always the hint that he could conceivably be grinning maniacally as he trudges through the dark material, but, after one listen to his gruff voice, there is no denying that his closed eyes and hunched shoulders are channelling from a place that is as creative as it is demented.
Like Alice, also released this year, the album features a lot of imagery pertaining to dreams, some good and some bad. It's also philosophical in parts, and chock full of stock images in others. The song "Everything Goes To Hell" rattles off about merchants, lawyers and thieves while set to a cha-cha kind of sound. The serenic "Coney Island Baby" alludes to being swept away to dreamland. "Another Man's Vine" is almost a sequel to 1992's soulful "Dirt In the Ground".
Certainly the most arresting and participatory tracks are the knee-stomping ones that move ahead with metronome-like determination. On "Misery Is the River of the World", Waits beckons "Everybody row!", and one is half-inclined to oblige. "God's Away On Business" has a chorus that halts then resumes (which would be a blast to see in concert), and "Starving in the Belly of a Whale" uses a repetitive refrain, vaguely reminiscent of a sailor's shanty.
There are a couple of instrumentals on Blood Money too: the surreal "Knife Chase" and the aforementioned "Calliope". These, combined with the gentle "Lullaby" and the lackadaisical "The Part You Throw Away", exemplify Waits's need to constantly evolve in his experimentation with sound and mood. I can't say that this album is necessarily better than Alice, but it certainly does complement it splendidly.
