When I think of my favorite stuff by Tom Waits, I always look back to the time when the writing and arranging of his songs were more playful, avant pop exercises, colored by a range of intense and deep emotional swatches, yet always with humor. My favorite stretch in his catalog of work is from Swordfishtrombones to Franks Wild Years (Marc Ribot?). Songs were always off-kilter, tenuous, unpredictable...far-away organs played against a punchy latin rhumba beat...oh, here comes the circus, jolted by a bended-note/feedback guitar part. Wha?

I heard a lot more characters in his voice, too. The sideshow barker, the Ironweed hobo, the cocky but sensitive playboy, or the frustrated, suburbia-warped freespirit looking to make a break.

This track off Franks Wild Years feels like an old, worn out, spaghetti western-inspired guitar shuffle. Its whispered from the lips of a grizzled shopkeeper in a soon-to-be ghosttown, telling his concerned companion the need to reach for where your dreams dwell: "out where your enemies lie." There's little consolation against what most likely will be an exercise in futility, but necessary nonetheless, to carve out some sort of happiness. Get used to it.

Somehow it seems to fit these times very well...

I was never a Pulp fan, and I'm still not exactly a huge one. I never quite got why songs like 'Do you remember the first time' and 'Common People' were so great. I don't mind those songs now, but they never hit me in the way that 'This is Hardcore' did.

It's hard to explain why the dramatic, slightly ridiculous tone of the song appeals to me so much. The song is built around a sample from 'Bolero on the moon rocks' by Peter Thomas, the German film composer, and I think it's used very well - the sample adds texture and atmosphere, but doesn't dictate the song. I enjoy the way things develop at a slow pace, with new musical sections still being introduced late in the song. I'm very fond of all of these, but the slow, dreamy section that comes in at around 4:15 is particularly appealing, with its lush and strangely 80s sounding backgrounds.

Utter, utter genius!

"Jet trails in the sky, leave one word behind". This amazing Morrissey track is the "b" side of his "Roy's Keen" single (along with another wonderful track "The Edges Are No Longer Parallel"). Co-written this time with Morrissey's drummer Spencer Cobrin, it's so strong lyrically, and has a wonderful melody it could have been a single in its own right. The only gripe I have about it is the use of a synth rather than real strings to provide the widescreen backdrop, but it's not terribly important. A wonderful torch song from one of the only British singer/songwriters still worth listening to.

Here's a great track from last years masterpiece 'When I Was Cruel'. Costello is lyrically at his best on this album and this song about the corruptness of lawyers is no exception.

I was really into the Polyphonic Spree record about a year ago and read somewhere that frontman Tim Delaughter was the singer in Tripping Daisy. There were some pretty rabid recommendations on Amazon for the third TD album - "Jesus Hits Like the Atom Bomb," so I ordered a used copy. It took a few spins to get into, but damn it's a keeper. Melodic art pop heaven. If ya care: it's produced by Eric Drew Feldman - who was a member of Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band, played keyboards for Pere Ubu for a while, and also produced some of Frank Black's earlier solo stuff.

Anyways, as its title suggests, "Our Drive to the Sun / Can a Man Mark it?" comes in two parts. "Our Drive ..." is sunshiney modern pop in the vein of the Flaming Lips, with hooks galore (there are like four parts that could qualify as killer choruses). At about the four minute mark, the track morphs into "Can a Man ...", which sounds something like a Gary Numan song remixed by Kevin Shields. Great change ups throughout and just a real nice listen.