The Tom Waits Project: #5. "Foreign Affairs" (1977)

There are few artists who have had as enjoyably weird of a career as that of Tom Waits. With a career spanning over 45 years, he has reinvented himself countless times while providing some of rock's strangest, most eclectic tunes imaginable. Over the course of 2019, my goal with The Tom Waits Project is to explore every single one of his studio albums as well as live albums and soundtracks (no compilations) and chart the shifts in his career as well as hopefully understand what makes him so ubiquitous in pop culture. He's an artist who has always been there, making things weird, but there's a good chance you haven't truly noticed him. Here's your chance to join me every other Wednesday on a quest to find out what makes him so special.

Album: "Foreign Affairs"

Release Date: September 13, 1977

Label: Asylum Records

Certifications: N/A

Singles: 

N/A

Covers:

Track List:

1. "Foreign Affair"
2. "Barbershop"
3. "Burma Shave"
4. "Potters Field"
5. "A Sight for Sore Eyes"
6. "Medley Jack & Neal California Here We Come"
7. "Muriel"
8. "I Never Talk to Strangers"
9. "Cinny's Waltz"

*NOTE: Listen to it here.

Track Analysis

This section is a song by song breakdown in hopes of understanding what makes each song special in his catalog. Other things considered will include best song, most interesting standout, and other fields deemed relevant to the album.

"Foreign Affair""

Here we are once again at the start of another Tom Waits album. There's plenty to like here, especially as he takes his lonely wanderer persona and sets him abroad. With the familiar piano backing him up, this opening song captures the familiar understated nature of Waits as he explores his familiar woes. It's a beautiful song that is complemented by his increasingly scraggly voice. There's nothing immediately grabbing about it otherwise, but it's a nice and subdued start to an album that shows him becoming more confident and assured of himself as a performer.

"Barbershop"

In typical fashion, he has another clever song that may sound a bit out of place elsewhere. However, Waits has a gift for making this one off songs on each album (often to an upright bass) where he explores the lives of these average people. With plenty of witticisms backing him up, this song about a barber talking to his customers as he does a "snip snip snip," is a fun little riff that comes to life as he insults the customer for not paying him for his last haircut. There may not be much to the song, but it works because of the bohemian lifestyle that he embodies. If anything, he finds a way to personify the character while also giving plenty of depth into the hard working men that Waits tends to praise on his albums. 

"Burma Shave"

In what seems like a coincidence, he seems to be obsessed with the idea of shaving. For the second song in a row, he explores the conflicts that come with going somewhere. The only difference is that there's more of melancholy here, where he explores the grief of these characters through observation. Where the last song was comedic, he takes on a sad and remorseful vibe here, taking on an external observation point. It leads to a fairly compelling song full of his penchant lyrical wit that leads into the many references to the title. The piano's minimalism grounds it in a way that works and returns him to his night club, the bluesy personality that he hasn't entirely moved away from, but has become more experimental within recent albums. It proves that there's still some love for the traditional structure of music, and it shows at the final trumpet blows a sorrowful farewell to the song. 

"Potters Field"

It's true that he is a master storyteller. It's why it seems a bit odd that it's taken this long to do what is essentially an eight-minute-long film noir pastiche. It allows him to explore the tale of murder and crime while playing into his ability to connect words in a dizzying fashion. They create a grim picture as only Waits can, and what he produces is a compelling piece of music that is also among his best-produced work so far. Here we don't just get to hear him tell a story. It feels like the instruments are playing characters within it as horns blare and the piano and bass fill in the gaps. There's a lot to love about this song in spite of its daunting length. Overall it's what makes Waits a genuine treasure. Even as he sticks within his bluesy ways, he manages to subvert the formula in a way that continues to complement his abilities as a lyricist with several lines that are so detailed that he should be the poet laureate. It may not be his most accessible track, but it's early evidence that he wants to experiment more with form.

"A Sight for Sore Eyes"

With it being over halfway through the album, Waits starts to get cheeky as the piano plays a jaunty melody. It's almost a parody of patriotic melodies, of which he has referenced in the past. Here, he returns to the melancholic state as the piano plays, subverting the happiness with a sense of sadness that gives depth to his song. With his haggard voice on display, he manages to bring to life a story of seeing someone he is glad to finally see again. While there's reminiscing on his own loneliness, he manages to carry his spirits into a subdued joy. There's plenty to like about this song and features a more romantic side of the performer. If nothing else, his use of piano here proves that he can write great music over any one instrument better than most can do with a full orchestra.

"Medley Jack & Neal California Here We Come"

It wouldn't be a Waits record without some song detailing in comical detail the debauchery lifestyle. Here he manages to fit jazz musicians into a story that includes Florence Nightingale sticking her butt out of the window. It's an absurd sight, and Waits makes it all work with his ability to sound both serious and cheeky (no pun intended). It's the familiar blues riffs playing underneath as the song becomes more and more insane until it's hard to keep track of everything. Still, what makes it all work is his ability to mix in the California anthem "California Here I Come," which now sounds more like an invite to a wild party than to the prosperity that the state provides. Whatever Waits is going to California for, it definitely sounds wild.

"Muriel"

It's time once again for another somber ballad from the singer, and he manages to create the low key sense of despair that she's leaving during the song. With a somber heart, he recounts her story in a way that is full of sorrow, making the audience care for whatever wayward direction she is planning on going. It's definitely a decent example of how Waits is capable of bringing to life these characters that shouldn't seem all that interesting. Still, it's in hearing about why she's leaving that he finds something interesting to pull from. With a simple melody, he lets things play out at their own pace, and it's almost like he's letting the character go in the process. It's beautiful and sad as a result.

"I Never Talk to Strangers"

It took long enough for waits to do a duet. With Bette Midler in tow, he makes an interesting yet cheeky take on the familiar love song. While there's the familiar winking cadence of Midler guiding herself away from Waits, who is billed as a stranger here, there's still this affecting charm about the two trying to deal with each other. There's not a lot of pomp and circumstance behind the production, but the simple fact that Waits has someone to play off of manages to give the song enough personality to be interesting. He's still the lonely man trying to find a connection in this big world, and having a song where he's often interrupted by that connection is a nice touch.

"Cissy's Waltz"

As is a tradition with most Waits albums, this ending track is more of a thematic musical piece that captures what the album has been about. Considering that the album begins by traveling away from the bars that he often inhabited, it makes sense to end on a bit of a relieving and familiar tone. Yes, there's a fusion of film noir-style jazz in here, though the overall production captures something peaceful. The wandering is over for now, and it's time to be at peace. It's a decent end to an album that doesn't really see the performer pushing himself too much. It works as a piece of music and settles things in a nice and relaxing place.

Closing Remarks

The Wikipedia page suggests that part of the draw of "Foreign Affairs" is how the demos sounded like Waits was taking on a film noir-style vibe, which also explains the black-and-white photography on the cover. While it's true that certain songs embody it better than others (notably "Potters Field"), this does feel like more of the same from Waits. It's not a bad thing as he continues to have a strong grasp on his lyrical and musical capabilities. It's just that after a fantastic turn in "Small Change" that his next album lacks too much panache. It has great songs and even a fun duet, but it feels a tad predictable at this point and makes one long for the next stage of his career to begin. Again, it's not a bad album but just one that never feels like a singular achievement. 

Coming Up Next: "Blue Valentine" (1977)

Album Rankings

This section is dedicated to ranking the albums from best to worst in hopes of finding which Tom Waits album is the best.

1. "Small Change" (1976)
2. "The Heart of Saturday Night" (1974)
3. "Nighthawks at the Diner" (1975)
4. "Foreign Affairs" (1977)
4. "Closing Time" (1973)

Song Rankings

This section is dedicated to finding the best songs from each album and comparing them to each other in hopes of finding which one is Tom Waits' best song.

1. "I Wish I Was in New Orleans" from "Small Change" (1976)
2. "Martha" from "Closing Time" (1973)
3. "Potters Field" from "Foreign Affairs" (1977)
4. "Eggs and Sausage" from "Nighthawks at the Diner" (1975)
5. "Please Call Me Baby" from "The Heart of Saturday Night" (1974)