Zack: Rain Dogs took me a few listens to fully
comprehend, but I think I’ve finally got it pegged. It’s Captain Beefheart all
grown up. Now, we both hated – neigh despised – Captain Beefheart, but this is
on a whole other level. They’re similar in the unorthodox, scraggly voices and
the experimental instrumentation. But they’re so different in execution. Tom
Waits is able to simultaneously coexist in the realms of artistry and alluring
melody. According to my recollections, Captain Beefheart did not do that. Now,
maybe this just reflects my maturation as a music connoisseur, which I really
do think is happening. In fact, I intend to go back and give Captain Beefheart
another shot just to make sure. But, before I have relistened to that album, I
want to give credit to Tom Waits instead. He made one hell of an album in Rain
Dogs. He has another four albums on this list. And I really can’t wait.
Emily: Zack listened to this album first, and he predicted that I wouldn't be much of a fan. At least, not at first. After he played me Clap Hands, though, I was optimistic. Rain Dogs is certainly atypical of my normal taste in music, but something about it completely drew me in. I felt like I was listening to a guy on stage at a smoky dive bar, instead of listening to that same guy through my headphones on my couch during a hurricane. Waits has the soul and voice of an old bluesman, filling his music with real emotion and pain. This Wikipedia quote pretty much sums it up: his voice sounds "like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months, and then taken outside and run over with a car." Damn. The music is dark and haunting (though sometimes relieved by random jaunts of polka), but I couldn't help but listen in closer with every smoky note. I know I'll be listening to Rain Dogs again. I just can't shake it.
Favorite Tracks: Clap Hands; Jockey Full of Bourbon; Hang Down Your Head
