Alice
The grizzled modern persona of Tom Waits finds new life onAlice, a slow, grave record that explores physical and moral decay with the same harrowing insight of 1992'sBone Machine. Originally written as an opera with his longtime songwriting partner, playwright Kathleen Brennan, the songs onAlicewere performed live in a Hamburg theater for 18 months in 1992 and 1993, but were never committed to tape (officially, at least). This studio recording retains a sense of narrative cohesion, giving Waits a set of tormented and bizarre characters that go well with the motley crew he's assembled over the years. It is, in fact, the most consistent record of Waits's career, offering not only a stable train of thought, but a musical approach that, while featuring the same vaudevillian touches that have characterized his work sinceSwordfishtrombones, finds a voice all its own.  Without much percussion to back them up, violins, cellos, and horns dominate the record, bathing Waits's familiar growl in a sly, slow cacophony that sounds like an underwater fugue, the notes like rust on the strings. "Watch Her Disappear," with its sparse, sad pump organ, and the twisted torch song "Reeperbahn" have the smoky café mystery ofEdith Piafby way ofLeonard Cohen, recovered from the water-logged tapes inCole Porter's long-lost dingy. It's a burst of dark, world-weary poetry for lonely Saturday nights, cloudy days on the beach, or long strolls through graveyards.--Matthew Cooke