Perhaps Tom Waits' most cohesive album, Bone Machine is a morbid, sinister nightmare, one that applied the quirks of his experimental '80s classics to stunningly evocative - and often harrowing - effect. In keeping with the title's grotesque image of the human body, Bone Machine is obsessed with decay and mortality, the ease with which earthly existence can be destroyed. The arrangements are accordingly stripped of all excess flesh; the very few, often non-traditional instruments float in distinct separation over the clanking junkyard percussion that dominates the record. It's a chilling, primal sound made all the more otherworldly (or, perhaps, underworldly) by Waits' raspy falsetto and often-distorted roars and growls. Matching that evocative power is Waits' songwriting, which is arguably the most consistently focused it's ever been…
After completing the famed "trilogy" that consists of SWORDFISHTROMBONES, RAIN DOGS, and FRANK'S WILD YEARS, Waits took his time following it up. At the time, it was hard to imagine what crazed, exotic sonic vistas Waits had left unexplored. Further proving the mettle of his artistry, Waits pulled a masterstroke on BONE MACHINE. Instead of trying to reach new heights, he effectively plumbed the depths, stripping his sound down to the bare essentials (hence the title). At times, he sounds like a cross between an even more avant-garde Captain Beefheart ("Such a Scream") and a hip caveman banging out a song on a row of tuned skulls ("Earth Died Screaming"). Despite all this willful primitivism though, his craftsmanship is at a peak, with his thoughtful lyricism shining throughout.
In the 1970s, Tom Waits combined a lyrical focus on desperate, low-life characters with a persona that seemed to embody the same lifestyle, which he sang about in a raspy, gravelly voice. From the '80s on, his work became increasingly theatrical as he moved into acting and composing…