Rain Dogs marked a significant metamorphosis in style and content of Waits’ work; stunning both critics and listeners. Whereas his previous work appeared more sentimental with his tackling of subjects, with this outing he experimented with vocal style and range as he brought characterisation to his voice. The music took on new dynamics also, inheriting odd time signatures and wider, more varied use of instrumentation to further his ornate storytelling. The change was dramatic and Waits further established his place on the boundaries of modern music and record collections alike, attaining cult status.

The album is an unsettling foray into the dark recesses and turbulent chaos of Waits’ imagination; unrelenting in it’s pursuit of the bizarre and unsettling. Like the lost animals trying to find their way home that the title refers to, Waits introduces us to the forgotten and the freaks, the darlings and drunks that roam the dark city streets. On opener ‘Singapore’ drums skiffle and a guitar hops and dances through the nightmarish sea shanty; a crew of mad hatters littering the port until heading into the black of the night: “From now on boys this iron boats your home/So heave away boys”. The dark vibrations follow on with the graveyard shuffle and marimba percussion of ‘Clap Hands’. The atmosphere is similar to the opener; the junkyard orchestra displaying new obscure rhythms.

The mood continues without rest; the haunted fairground Farfisa organ and accordion of ‘Cemetery Polka’ leads a procession of slaughterhouse musicians, demented Aunties and reveals tumours that grow to the size of eggs. Waits’ imagination is brought to life with the help of his band and the array of instruments used, all producing strange roots inspired music and gypsy melodies. The talents of guitarist Marc Ribot, who continued to work with the songwriter on later works, cannot go by unnoticed. His influence is most felt on the drunken whispers of ‘Jockey Full of Bourbon’; the riffs are sporadic and seemingly improvised providing the most deliciously seedy backdrop for the portrayal of waking up and trying to piece together the night before. These guitars take charge; creating the murky atmosphere and unsettling tone.

Both Waits’ and band reveal talent and growing thirst for the unexpected. Settling somewhat after the nightmarish carnival of the beginning, they continue to excel and show their abundant ability to switch styles and captivate the listener through changes of mood and texture. The blues stomp and whip crack of ‘Big Black Mariah’ is a welcome change, the mood lifting and the body finding a rhythm it can move too. Similarly, the sentimental crooning of ‘Hang Down Your Head’ and the beautiful ‘Time’ introduce a calming ambience which draws the attention away from the frantic uncertainty of the beginning.

These dips and rises ensure the album never sounds too comfortable or repetitive; all the while there are reminders of Waits’ intent to unnerve. ‘Diamonds and Gold’ and ‘Rain Dogs’ bookend the ballads, the former a drunken lullaby, in the latter an accordion flicks like candle light, as the singer shares his wine with the broken citizens of the night. The city again becomes the focus of the album; the highlight reached with the dashing muted trumpets that narrowly avoid the dizzy saxophone in the deluge of instrumental ‘Midtown’. Followed by the spoken word and broken Beat imagery of ‘9th & Hennepin’, Waits’ unquestionable talent as a Beat poet is demonstrated with poignant results, “I’ve seen it all/I’ve seen it all through the yellow windows of the evening train.”

Poetic lyricism has always been a key component in Waits’ work; so too has jazz, blues and country leanings been demonstrated throughout his career. Rain Dogs delivers these genres confidently, breathing fresh air into the album allowing for engaging emotional tangents to flourish. ‘Gun Street Girl’ is a bluegrass hymn lead by a banjo and joined by workshop clangs, as men get themselves in trouble falling in love with the wrong woman; “Now a head full of bourbon and a dream in the straw/And a gun street girl was the cause of it all.” The song is reminiscent of the work on 1975s Nighthawks at the Diner, with its sentimental theme and delivery. Similarly the fiddles and lazy guitar of ‘Blind Love’, and the blues shuffle and jazz saxophone on ‘Walking Spanish’ hark back to Waits’ younger days.

This potent mix produces anticipation of what is to follow; an important ingredient if you take into consideration the amount of tracks on the album, 17 in all. But at the same time, as well as giving the album a schizophrenic touch, it is never a muddled or confused listen. Each song is given space to roam and their individual appeal can be witnessed and appreciated without detracting from the album as a whole. Waits has often presents himself to be a four headed beast; the growler, the howler, the poet and the drunk. Rain Dogs is a similar entity, providing a multitude of styles and emotions.
 
As the album reaches its climax Waits lets out his final bloody roar on ‘Anywhere I Lay My Head’ and the barroom band swaggers out the door all cymbals and sax. It’s the ending of a strange journey; the singer viewed the album as a character pulling out of a New York train station and thinking of all the terrible things he no longer has to be part of. As the band fades into the night on the final song that train can be heard leaving.
 
He hasn’t always been an easy listen, but that’s the beauty of Tom Waits; there is overwhelming depth to his music that won’t always be recognised upon first listen. Rain Dogs confronted the listener and took them to places few other singer/songwriters could have managed. By staying out of the limelight Waits has continually developed his own unique style; one of those rare artists that refuse to conform to the template of modern contemporary music; ceaselessly pursuing his individual ideas and delivering them with conviction and raw talent. He has always remained an outsider – it was really only Rod Stewarts hit cover of ‘Downtown Train’ that brought commercial success to Waits’ music.
 
His work transcends time and place; It will never ‘fit’ anywhere but in the darkest, furthest corners of imagination and will confuse and titillate in years to come. Appreciation is never far away when confronted with such refreshing artistic integrity and defiance.