But the following album transcends my stringent listening habits, released in 2008 and named after the tour it was recorded during, its Mr Waits first live album in a 40 year musical career, its 2 discs of rough broken Californian drawl features the only tracks I knew before this, and a second disc of Tom sitting down and telling us a series of yarns with the crowd as excited and off guard as Mr Waits, it gives you  a gig and a cup of tea fuelled story time.

Back to the first disc of the music, its got a career spanning collection, showing the many faces of Waits, the sullied jaded voice of a man from the brink, who 3exists and sings from a place down the road in your mind, but a creepier version, like if you saw through eyes of paranoia instead of cornea’s, the whole set seems to carry you past what is real into Tom’s perspective while he paints the world around you,  his voice sounds half outta breathe half forced and constantly on the edge of your nerves, poking them musically and lyrically into his darker frame of mind, locking you behind the musical staves of the music to view it as his prisoner on this grotesque tour the softer side of the under belly.

The sound is a deep disjointed almost rumble, it holds his voice up and gives it the depths to drown us the poor listener, after a while you forget what the world is really like outside, it becomes a story, a fiction, something Mr Waits created for you, just to raise the hairs across your body and creep out the all too real senses you rely on.

A highly talented live folk album, but an adult form of folk, it will lead you places, then make you observe the creatures crawling down there.

Cannot fault at all, stand out tracks, get behind the mule, and of course, goin out west,