9th & Hennepin, Rain Dogs, Tom Waits [118]

The Rain Dogs Shuffle begins in earnest as Ross Sutherland joins Martin and Sam to discuss the poetic stylings of 9th & Hennepin. The spontaneity of performance in songs and poetry, as well as the nature of social interaction on public transport feature in the conversation, along with the perspectives of writers on the internal and external lives of their subjects. Please note that the text of the Berman poems can be found in the YouTube description linked at the website. Song by Song is Martin Zaltz Austwick and Sam Pay; two musicians listening to and discussing every single Tom Waits track in chronological order. website: songbysongpodcast.com twitter: @songbysongpod e-mail: [email protected] Music extracts used for illustrative/review purposes include: 9th & Hennepin, Rain Dogs, Tom Waits (1985) "Governors On Sominex" & "My Life at Home During Banking Hours", Actual Air, David Berman (1999) We think your Song by Song experience will be enhanced by hearing, in full, the songs featured in the show, which you can get hold of from your favourite record shop or online platform. Please support artists by buying their music, or using services which guarantee artists a revenue - listen responsibly. Lyrics - 9th & Hennepin Well it's 9th and Hennepin All the donuts have Names that sound like prostitutes And the moon's teeth marks are On the sky like a tarp thrown over all this And the broken umbrellas like Dead birds and the steam Comes out of the grill like The whole goddamned town is ready to blow And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos And everyone is behaving like dogs And the horses are coming down Violin Road And Dutch is dead on his feet And the rooms all smell like diesel And you take on the Dreams of the ones who have slept here And I'm lost in the window I hide in the stairway I hang in the curtain I sleep in your hat And no one brings anything Small into a bar around here They all started out with bad directions And the girl behind the counter has a tattooed tear One for every year he's away she said, such A crumbling beauty, but there's Nothing wrong with her that $100 won't fix, she has that razor sadness That only gets worse With the clang and the thunder of the Southern Pacific going by As the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet Till you're full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin And you spill out Over the side to anyone who'll listen And I've seen it All through the yellow windows Of the evening train