Tom Waits - Rain Dogs

Nineteen songs, one LP and a city full of strays: Tom Waits' Rain Dogs is the 1985 masterpiece of junkyard blues and broken-hearted balladry, pressed here on 180-gram vinyl.

Having torn up his barroom crooner image on Swordfishtrombones, Waits pushed further into the unknown on Rain Dogs, building a world of sailors, drifters and late-night characters on the margins of New York. Producing the record himself, he swapped smooth piano for marimba, clanking percussion and accordion, plus the unpredictable guitar of Marc Ribot, with Keith Richards dropping by on several tracks.

Singapore kicks things off like a drunken sea shanty, all clattering rhythms and growled commands. Jockey Full of Bourbon slinks along on a sly, Latin-tinged groove, while Time slows the pace for one of Waits' most tender and devastating ballads. Downtown Train shows his gift for a straight-up great song, a yearning rocker that Rod Stewart later turned into a hit, and Gun Street Girl adds a rattling, blues-soaked tale of trouble on the run.

Rain Dogs is the sound of an artist fully trusting his strangest instincts, and decades later it still feels like stumbling into a smoky back room where anything could happen. Few records have such a vivid sense of place, or such a rough, generous heart beating underneath all the noise.