EVERY NOW AND THEN THE WORLD MAKES SENSE

Every now and then
The world just makes sense
A melody is formed
By eight random tones
A monkey at a typewriter
Composes a poem
And a homeless man
Walks into a 7-11
Plays his mother’s birthday
On the Lotto and wins a million
Every now and then
The world just makes sense

This is verse 20 from Tom Wait’s soon to be released chap book poem, Seeds on Hard Ground. I can imagine Tom reading this out in his gravely voice; poignent meaning and insight made through the waitsesque metre. This is the first poem released by Tom Waits. I have read numerous web reviews on this poem, and made a funny observation in a statement shared by many of said reviews, in that waits in an interview in 1975 said that poetry is a dangerous thing and would much preferred to be called a musician than a poet. I have over the years read and watched (thanks to youtube) many an interview of Tom Waits just for entertainment sake. I wouldn’t be surprised if Waits somewhere down the line said that poetry was a dangerous thing, but nowhere have I found these douchebags actually citing this statement made by Tom Waits. In fact, I think someone made the initial remark and everyone looking for reviews on this subject matter to help their writing just said the same thing because it sounds kinda sensational considering the fact that this is indeed Toms first published “poem”. The closest thing I have found to this “1975 interview” can be read here. If any of you comes across the actual interview please do let me know. In any case, as much as the then 26 year old Waits wanted to be called a musician, he is indeed a poet. I don’t know how else to describe the lyrical genius of a song such as, The Piano Has Been Drinking, or Franks Wild Years without calling him such. And I think the bastard knows that. Now before I digress, I must say this. The Chap Book (or pocket book) can be pre-ordered right now, but it is officially on sale in America and Europe on Feb 22. They have made only 1000 hardback copies of these babies, so order one now if they aren’t sold out already. All proceeds go to three catholic Santa Rosa charities which I think is kinda neat. Also, if you are lucky enough actually get your hands on one of these copies, the re-sale value on ebay will get you one hefty dime I guarantee. 

Now to digress… In my last post, I briefly discussed the influence Jim Morrison had on my life in terms of the start of my musical journey, perhaps paralleling a similarity in the discussion on Indian youth today and their own journey of self discovery. What’s interesting about this interview remark on poetry’s danger made by Waits is that it is very much true. Morrison knew this as well, but unlike Waits, he would have loved to be called a poet more so than a musician. To Morrison, poetry was eternal. And even in his depression in the latter months of his career, he inherently knew that the cure to his despondency was poetry. See according to Jim, even if he were to die, his poetry would live on forever. This is why, at least in Tom DiCillo’s 2009 documentary we see Jim being temporarily relieved from his sadness when he for the first time has an opportunity to record some of his poetry as a part of a birthday present. Morrison’s poetry is evident in all of his songs just like it is in Waits’. It is this kind of poetry that I would say in agreement with Tom, is indeed dangerous. I hope that I in my simple attempts articulated this point in my last post. Now, Tom Waits just like Jim Morrison, played a huge part in the development of my musical being up to this point. For me, Jim Morrision is to Tom Waits as Modernism is to Post Modernism. In its broadest sense, modernism and post modernism are a part of the same movement, but the differences are subtle, and lie in the method to the madness. Here’s why, and it’s not going to sound quite as profound as I just made it out to be…. As a teenager I loved Morrisons hair, and used to in fact have long hair. As stupid as I looked, it made me in the deepest sense feel like a rockstar. I wanted to be like Jim Morrison (mind you I didn’t have the balls to work the leather pants until some years later). It was freshmen year in college when Tom Waits made his impact on my life. Now I had always been a fan of Copolla’s Godfather. I loved the way Michael Corleone held himself. I loved his suits. I loved the way he sat on a chair, the seriousness, the manliness, the poise. I tried to emulate that for a short while, but it all changed when I came across an interview of Tom Waits on Fernwood Tonight. I can honestly say that that was the moment I made the decision to sport the skinny pants. Tom had the suit, he had the hat, but he was so disheveled, he looked like he lived in a barrel. He was so damn cool. He was the anti-hero to the Godfather—he was a rockstar. I know from stories from my recording arts professor in college, who was friends with Tom, that he was just as crazy as any rockstar as far as the drugs and the drinking went. But unlike Jim, Waits was still alive, and unlike some of his contemporaries he never seemed to get old. And so started my hat wearing, skinny pants sporting days; the post modern age of my life. I’ll have you know that during the end of my college years and the time after in New York, I started going back into glam attire, tenfold to the wanabe Jim Morrison that I was freshman year. This was also reflected in the music I listened to; a lot of synth-pop, electro-pop and the like. Perhaps this was the post-post-modern phase of my youth. Not to say that the evolution has in anyway ended, but I would not be able to tell you about my state of my music or fashion affairs in a statement right now. Maybe if you checked into the blog a couple years from now I would hopefully be able to enlighten you (and myself).