Collecting all the odd items that don't fall into a simple quiet-loud dichotomy, Bastards reveals Waits at his most theatrical, filled with weird spoken-word monologues, gypsy-opera arrangements, acapella experiments, and demented covers. Few people can make music that's authentically frightening without crossing the line into campy silliness, yet this is another skill Waits can lay claim to; look no further than the Disney nightmare of his "Heigh Ho" or the ghoulish nature documentary of "Army Ants". There may be nothing else on these three discs as striking as "Dog Door", his collaboration with Sparklehorse that traps Waits' repertoire of voices in a funhouse of synths and tape loops, a thrilling (and teasingly rare) modern take on his familiar formula.
Collecting all the odd items that don't fall into a simple quiet-loud dichotomy, Bastards reveals Waits at his most theatrical, filled with weird spoken-word monologues, gypsy-opera arrangements, acapella experiments, and demented covers. Few people can make music that's authentically frightening without crossing the line into campy silliness, yet this is another skill Waits can lay claim to; look no further than the Disney nightmare of his "Heigh Ho" or the ghoulish nature documentary of "Army Ants". There may be nothing else on these three discs as striking as "Dog Door", his collaboration with Sparklehorse that traps Waits' repertoire of voices in a funhouse of synths and tape loops, a thrilling (and teasingly rare) modern take on his familiar formula.
