“If you get far enough away you’ll be on your way back home,” croons Tom Waits in “Blind Love.” But whether he’s wandering the streets of Vienna or sending a Christmas card from Minneapolis, the smokey-toned songwriter finds a home for his song in wherever he travels. It’s been said that, “the man doesn’t just speak to an askew sensibility in America; he speaks to askew sensibilities all throughout humanity”—and now, you can take a look at a Tom Waits map that highlights all of the places in which his lyrics reside. From “a crowded bus in Jerusalem” to “Portland through a shot glass,” explore Waits’ world all in one view, and listen to some of his best albums below.
There are few sounds more wonderful and soothing than the rusty timbre of Tom Waits’ voice. From fishing in Jamaica with John Lurie to wandering around Vienna, I’d watch the musician and poet of lovelorn and tattered vaudevillian jazz do just about anything. But when it comes to his best on-screen moments, it’s not just Coffee and Cigarettes and Short Cuts I’m fascinated by, but his talk show appearances from the late 1970s.
Back in a better world than this, in 1977 Waits went on the TV sitcom Fernwood Tonight (or Fernwood 2 Night)—a parody show created by Norman Lear set in the fictional town of Fernwood, Ohio. Playing a Johnny Carson-esque figure, Martin Mull played Barth Gimble, with Fred Willard as his cohort Jerry Hubbard. And although most of the guests that appeared on the show were fictional, Waits and his bumbling-grumbling-slightly-greasy-but-still-utterly-charming-self came on to perform “The Piano Has Been Drinking.” Afterward, the three have a chat, in which Waits utters the classic, “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy,”—and it’s all a delight to watch. Take a look below.
As the day presses on and your mind becomes hazy with the chaos of the week, it’s imperative that you take a moment to breathe. And to while you’re doing so, why not grab a cup of tea and recline while listening to the soothing sound of some fantasically talented men reciting a bit of your favorite poetry? From Benedict Cumberbatch to Tom Waits, enjoy the words of Keats, Bukowski, Pinter, and many more.
Benedict Cumberbatch reciting “Ode to a Nightingale”
Colin Firth reading from Harold Pinter’s Poems to A
Jeremy Irons reciting William Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”
Dennis Hopper reading Rudyard Kipling’s “If”
Tom Waits reciting Charles Bukowski’s “The Lauging Heart”
Tom Hiddelston reciting W.H. Auden’s “As I Walked Out One Evening”
Alan Rickman reciting Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130
Bill Murray reading Wallace Stevens
Christopher Walken reciting Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”
Ben Whishaw reciting John Keats’ “La Belle Dame Sans Merci”
If there’s anything more wonderful than watching Tom Waits cranky, hungry, and sweaty while fishing in Jamaica with John Lurie, it’s Waits hanging around Vienna in 1979. Shot by Rudi Dozezal and Hannes Rossacher in April of ’79, he was on a European tour when they approached Waits about filming him for the day, to which he agreed to on the spot. In the film, we follow Waits from a gas station, to the stage, to the piano, to dancing, and oh is it a pleasure to enjoy. In the beginning of the film Waits recalls:
This reminds me of a place I used to work in National City, California, called Spotco Self Service…I worked for a gentleman named Charles Spotco. I was always late for work. I used to stay out at night. I’d come dragging to work, used to get there about ten-thirty in the morning. He’d chew me out and scream at me for being late. He always said I’d never amount to nothing. I never thought I’d be standing in a gas station in Vienna Austria. If I’d of told him that one day, Spotco, I’ll be leaning on a gas pump at a gas station in Vienna Austria, he would have said you gotta be out of your mind.
So grab yourself a whiskey and cigarette and check out the 30-minute film HERE, or take a listen to Waits reading some Bukowski. It mean still be the morning but any time of day on grey days such as this are aching for a little Tom Waits crooning.
What first attracted me to John Lurie as an artist was a passionate sense of nonchalance. A contradiction, yes, but as a wildly talented man who focused on his varying artistic endeavors, he seemed to exude a sense of ease and agility, weaving his way between mediums while creating something idiosyncratic and bizarrely unique. Since the early 1970s, the prolific man of talents has become a cultural icon, transcending movements and finding new ways to reinvent himself as an artist. Starting out as the frontman for illustrious jazz band The Lounge Lizards, Lurie played a mean sax before pursuing acting, starring in some of Jim Jarmusch’s best films—Stranger Than Paradise and Down By Law, among others. But it was the 1990s television show he conceived and directed which really catapulted him into a cult obsession: the strange, wonderful, and hilarious Fishing With John.
The concept of the show was simple: each episode, Lurie would take one of his pals to a certain locale around the world and fish. Just real men doing real things. Those pals also just happened to be Jim Jarmusch, Tom Waits, Willem Dafoe, Dennis Hopper, and Matt Dillon. From Maine, Jamacia, and Thailand, Lurie would travel with his guest of honor and set out to brave the elements, search new territory, and, of course, catch some fish. The result was a fantastic exploration of finding the comedy in the mundane—the pleasure of watching two men sit on a boat in the heat or freezing to death on a frozen lake heightened to the surreal, with a narrated voiceover that could double you over. Tom Waits gets cranky, Jim Jarmusch is bored, Willem Dafoe dies, Dennis Hopper is…well, Dennis Hopper, and naturally a bit of disaster ensues.
Fishing With John is currently streaming on Netflix, but has also been released by the Criterion Collection, and tonight, Lurie is headed to Nitehawk Cinema for the second time. After a screening and Q&A back in November, he will be returning to show three episodes of the Fishing With John, in addition to his 1979 film Men in Orbit and two of his short films .
Personally, I had seen the series a while ago and loved it. But recently, my friend and I spent a Friday night sitting in my bed watching all six episodes, rediscovering just how enjoyable it truly is, and coming to the conclusion that I’d have to get the chance to talk with Lurie myself. Thankfully, he agreed to carry on an email interview with me to talk more about his early jazz days, the late-night inception of Fishing With John, and his more recent work as a highly acclaimed painter.
Can you tell me a little about the beginning of your career in the late ’70s and the beginnings of The Lounge Lizards? New York was obviously a very different place then; did that breed a certain kind of creative energy for you? You’ve always had a very idiosyncratic sound but how was the music scene for jazz at that time? That is kind of a book of a first question. I came to New York as a saxophone player and was interested in the jazz scene. But the jazz scene was pretty thin. The musicians I admired could barely get gigs and were struggling to make ends meet. I was shocked actually because they were heroes of mine and I thought of them as stars. But what was happening around that time and was very alive; it was a scene that bubbled out of the punk movement. Everything was wild and irreverent. I had come from London when things like the Sex Pistols were happening but found it kind of silly—not the Sex Pistols, but the attitude, the nihilism and the spitting. Everyone was doing things they didn’t know how to do. And through Eric Mitchell, I started making Super 8 movies. I almost had to hide the fact that I made sure to practice the saxophone every day because that was sneered at. And I most certainly did not think of anything in terms of a career at that time.
And how did you meet Jim Jarmusch and begin working together—as an actor and musician. I met Jim on Eric Mitchell’s movie Red Italy. He was the bar tender and I danced around like a freak. He was a film student which made us all go, ick. Being a film student to that crowd was like being an accountant, not cool at all. And if my accountant reads this, I don’t mean you PJ. Although PJ did once show me the music on his playlist and I said, See, there are no accountants with taste. He didn’t smile. But the first thing I did with Jim was play the saxophone on the street in Permanent Vacation. I gave him some music for that.
Jumping forward a decade, where did the idea for Fishing With John come from? What did you want the show to be exactly? Did you know who you wanted to bring along as guests on the episodes? The idea came from coming home late one night, or I guess morning really, and the only thing on any channel was a fishing show. And I thought, I want to do this. I had always had this thing since I was a kid where I would watch Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom with Marlon Perkins and he would always be telling you what the animals were thinking, and I just always wanted to do my own show where I would tell you what the animals were thinking. So I was talking about it, more like a joke, a threat—I am going to make a fishing show. And then it sort of fell into place.
Were there certain places you knew you wanted to travel or were they specific to each guest? It wasn’t so thought out who I would go with or where. Tom and Jim seemed obvious. Long Island was the first one, the pilot, and was the closest, cheapest thing to do. Dennis wanted to go to Thailand. Willem decided on the ice fishing in Maine, I thought he was nuts.
Ice fishing with Willem definitely seemed the most dangerous but that one is so good. Were you nervous about going into it? No, that wasn’t really dangerous. It wasn’t even unpleasant actually; that cold is so intense that it is kind of exciting. There is a thing that’s in the show where I get water in my glove and my hand is numb in seconds. I was actually in a bit of trouble then, but that was kind of it. There was a thing with the camera mounts on the snowmobiles, where the mount broke and the camera went flying into the air, then one of us ran over it. The sound is still going, but there’s no picture and you can hear the guy who installed the mounts screaming over the black screen, "Am I fucked now! I am so fucked now!"
And what Dennis, did you know him before going to Thailand? I met Dennis in Tokyo. We were doing this thing for Commes Des Garcon. We hit it off immediately. But I didn’t think he would actually do it. It was kind of amazed that he did.
So going into each epsiode, did you have an idea of how it would go or was it pretty much on the fly? It was mostly on the fly. And a lot was decided in the editing room.
How did you find Rob Webb to do the voice-over? How scripted was his narration? It’s pretty perfect. Of course it is scripted. I worked hard writing that, you think he just made it up on the spot? Damn.
No, no I didn’t think he made it up on the spot at all. Maybe I was thinking more along the lines of how you went about writing that narration because it really does make the show so entertaining. Did you anticipate the show gaining the cult following that’s gathered over the last decade? I don’t know what I anticipated. I didn’t really think about it.
Did you run into any major sort of disasters or problems while shooting? It was kind of all disasters really.
Was it difficult transitioning into the art world as someone who was known for your music and film work? Music was by far the most important thing to me, and then because I got so sick I couldn’t play anymore. I couldn’t even listen to music any more. Wasn’t really a career transition. I was stuck in my home for years and I made them, I don’t know why.
What are you drawn to as a painter or what inspires you? I have no idea what inspires me to paint, or even why I do it at all. I think I would probably do them even if I knew no one would ever see them—meaning, if not even another human were to ever see them. There is something that compels me to do it. And I feel cleaner when I do it.
I imagine painting is a lot like creating music in that it’s about intuition and requires a spontaneity but also the structure and skill there to back that up. Do those two interests—music and painting— play off each other? I never imagined that painting would be as real as the music was. But it is now. The best music I wrote and the best music I played, it was almost like John wasn’t there at all. The best paintings are like that now.
Something I love about a lot of your paintings is how alive they feel, in that, between the colors and the figures and the amalgamation of all the elements, you’re getting a lot of feeling from somewhere that feels very psychological. When you’re creating, is it sort of a subconscious effort? I often invent techniques as I go. I usually have a few paintings going at once. Sometimes if I haven’t worked on one in a while and start working on it again—let’s say I was doing the side of a building by using oil pastels and graphite, but now I don’t remember exactly how I was doing it—I go, how the fuck did I do that? I think I remember, and then start but it doesn’t look right at all.
You have some pretty great titles to your paintings—I especially love ones like "the skeleton in my closet has moved back to the garden" and "there is a caveman in my apartment examining the fur. i wish he would leave." How do you go about naming a piece? Man, I am baffled by questions like that.
Jim Jarmusch once said, "I always start with characters rather than with a plot, which many critics would say is very obvious from the lack of plot in my films—although I think they do have plots—but the plot is not of primary importance to me, the characters are." And for the over thirty years now, the well-coiffed auteur has been making films that exist in a universe entirely of his own creation with characters leading the way through fractured vignettes and the greatest ear for pairing music with bodies. Jarmusch’s cinematic universe is minimalistic in structure but rich in personality, coming to life through idiosyncratic dialogue and repetition of brilliant actors from John Lurie and Tom Waits to Tilda Swinton and Bill Murray. And this week, the Criterion Collection will be offering all of their Jarmusch films free to watch on Hulu. And if you’re not satisfied, we’ve provided you with the pilot episode of Fishing With John in which John and Jim set out to catch a shark in Montauk—and it’s perfection. Enjoy.
To be honest, I don’t even care what Seven Psychopaths is about. I mean, yes, I care. But it’s Martin McDonagh, I am sure it will be wry and brilliant, and of course I will see it. But it’s not so much the exact plot points I’m interested in as the bizarre characters that seem to inhabit the film, played by a cast of manic weirdos whose presence alone is enough to make me want to shell out $14 on a movie ticket. But from what I’ve cared to gather, the film is a dark comedy that has something to do with the kidnapping of a mobster’s shih tzu, a struggling screenwriter, but most importantly, Tom Waits stroking a pet rabbit.
The promotion for the film has taken shape in a viral marketing campaign that seems just as odd as the characters in it, which I find thoroughly amusing. Two new clips have popped up online; the first, a scene between Sam Rockwell and Olga Kurylenko featuring this quote: “It’s a kidnapped dog. You don’t give back a kidnapped dog. It defeats the entire object of the kidnapping. They didn’t give Patty Hearst back, did they? This dog is my Patty Hearst.”
The second clip features said rabbit-stroking Waits, in what appears to be his introduction to the other fellas.
And then there’s this:
Seven Psychopaths is in theaters October 12, and until then I will be distancing myself from reviews or criticism because, if you couldn’t tell by my apathetic tone, I am inappropriately excited.
In one of the weirder casting updates of the fall 2012 TV seasons, singer Tom Waits will appear on The Simpsons. But not to sing!
NME reports the gravelly-voiced musician will introduce Homer Simpson to the survivalism movement, called "preppers," who prepare for Earthly disasters such as the impending apocalypse. Preppers stock up on canned goods like the Coupon Queen, learn how to build shelters, and perfect skills to fend off zombies/packs of wild dogs.A half-assed Google search suggested that Tom Waits is not actually a survivalist and that The Simpsons writers are just taking creative liberties.
It’s also probably just as well he is not singing. I would hate to have to hear Homer explain Pasties And A G-String to Lisa Simpson.
Tom Waits still knows how to grab a crowd’s attention and hold it in a death grip. Last week, the singer made cryptic references to something big appearing on August 7th, featuring images of him dressed as a pirate, trudging through the surf behind cannibalistic-looking submarines with the caption "I Breathe Better Underwater" and another about not bringing a knife to a spoon-fight, which is very good advice indeed. Speculation arose about a new album, a new tour and many more possibilities, but today Waits revealed the new project as a stunning video for his death-march-in-the-underworld track "Hell Broke Luce" from his 2011 release, Bad as Me.
"As most of you guessed, it’s a tour," Waits said in a statement announcing the video. "A tour de force! Matt Mahurin has created an apocalyptic war dream to accompany the song HELL BROKE LUCE. Kathleen and I envisioned it as an enlightened drill sergeant yelling the hard truths of war to a brand new batch of recruits. The video grew from the gnawing image of a soldier pulling his home, through a battlefield, at the end of a rope.
I think you will agree, it’s uplifting and fun."
As Waits snarls about having a good home and leaving it behind, Matt Mahurin’s (who previously worked with Waits on several videos, as well as the likes of Hole and Peter Gabriel) wartime apocalypse comes alive, including all the classic images of great floods and puppet scavenger birds. The demon submarines appear, and at one point, Waits loses a limb, so if that sort of thing makes you squeamish, just watch the first half. Anyway, it’s quite a stunning clip.