Wading into the catalogue of Tom Waits is like stepping into a junkyard. This only has a little to do with Waits singing about junkyard or recording music on instruments culled from junkyards. No, is discography is full of odds and ends, pieces that only make sense when you fit them up against other records. Rain Dogs is a glorious scrapheap of styles, weird America as heard through the ears of one of its real geniuses.
Tom Waits Rain Dogs (1985)