Edinburgh gigs will be well worth the Waits, thanks Tom

"TWO bourbons and keep 'em coming, Frank," says the rambling, gravel-voiced old man on the next bar stool. "Oh, and something for the kid."

The bartender eyes me suspiciously, then pours out a shot of whisky from a thin-necked bottle, his choice presumably being down to my Scots accent.

We are in the diviest of dive bars and Tom Waits, booze-soaked bard of the bar stool, is rocking back and forward on his seat as he recalls that time he and Charles Bukowski fist-fought some red necks in a bar brawl – all flying whisky bottles and chairs over heads, naturally.

"A hero ain't nothing but a sandwich," he growls when I mention a little later on that I own all his albums.

Then, a few drinks later, he gets up to play a tune on the piano – aptly enough, called The Piano Has Been Drinking.

As soon as he starts in that trademark throaty growl, some bears on the other side of the bar fire him dirty looks. They don't care for his song, clearly, and you can smell a fight in air.

It's about then we decide, after a knowing exchange of glances, to make our excuses and get out – fast.

The plan was to head to a cheap diner he knew across the way, though we never did make it there – presumably because my alarm clock woke me up first.

It was just a dream, sure. But such a vivid, coloured dream that I got up satisfied that, regardless of fact, in one way or another, I'd spent a night on the sauce with my idol. Raging hangover and all.

Of course, you'll know by now that Tom – and I feel I can call him Tom – is coming here in July, the only UK dates on his Glitter and Doom tour being at the Playhouse.

Great news though it is, it's unlikely we'll be able to take up where we left off last time.

Waits, you see, hasn't touched a drop of booze in more than a decade and, now that he's sober, is making the music of his life.

For that he has wife Kathleen, his songwriting collaborator for more than 25 years, to thank.

"Oh yeah, for sure," he agreed during a rare interview a few years back, when asked if his wife had literally saved his life.

"But I had something in me, too," he continued. "I knew I would not go down the drain, I would not light my hair on fire, I would not put a gun in my mouth. I had something abiding in me that was moving me forward."

And did he miss the drink? "Nah," he replied. "Not the way I was drinking. No, I'm happy to be sober. Happy to be alive. I found myself in places I can't believe I made it out of alive."

He and I both – even if it was in my dreams.