He doesn't say much but it's worth hearing

ASK any Tom Waits fan, they'll tell you the same. It isn't so important that concert-goers are being charged twice as much to see him play here as his US fans – although judging by some of the bad press this news was greeted by, you would be forgiven for thinking this be so.

It is more a case that, having spent more than two decades not performing in Edinburgh, the rare chance to pray at the church of the gravel-voiced, beer-stained bard of the barstool is worth £100 of any fan's money.

He could probably step on stage at the Playhouse on Sunday and Monday, play Fannin Street, then walk off and still have the faithful gushing that it was worth the wait.

Waits' live appearances are rarer than a rare thing these days, and the chances of scoring an interview as remote as the man himself.
Unlike, say, Lou Reed, who seemingly speaks to the press just so he can say he doesn't give a hoot what people think of him, Waits opts not to bother – which just adds to the air of mystery that's long surrounded the guy.

What we do know, is the man whose liquor-soaked slices of the world made him a legend hasn't touched a drop of drink for more than a decade and, for that, he has wife and songwriting collaborator of more than 25 years, Kathleen, to thank.

"Oh yeah, that's for sure," Waits revealed 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 went on. "I knew I would not go down the drain, would not light my hair on fire, would not put a gun in my mouth. I had something abiding in me that was always moving me forward."

And did he miss the booze? "Nah," came the reply. "Not the way I was drinking. I'm happy to be sober, happy to be alive. I found myself in places I can't believe I made it out alive."

Now 58 – though managing to look "like a 100-year-old beagle", according to Rolling Stone magazine – the chameleon-like Waits has enjoyed a 35-year career that has seen him defined as a poet, screenwriter, and actor.

But it's for his work as a songwriter – penning tunes laced with a dark humour, combining a lyrical focus on desperate, lowlife characters with a persona that seems to embody the same lifestyle – that he has become best known.

This teller of tales of low lives and lost loves released his first formal recording, Closing Time, in 1973 – a record which has been called "sweet and melodic" and is minus some of the vocal growl and thematic grit of later work.

Since then, the hipster storyteller gave us Heart Of A Saturday Night in 1974 and Nighthawks At The Diner in 1975, before defining his raspy, gravely singing voice with the two classic album releases – Swordfishtrombones in 1983, and Rain Dogs in 1985.

There have also been the Grammy-winning Bone Machine (with Earth Died Screaming) in 1992, and Mule Variations (for many people's money his masterpiece) in 1999, among many others in a weird and wonderful canon.
Like Bob Dylan, Waits, too, has acknowledged the influence of Beat writer Jack Kerouac on his writing. However, in terms of how literature has influenced his music, he has said he is usually more concerned with how things sound than how they look on the page.

"Some people write for the page and that's a whole other thing," he explained a few years back. "I'm going for what it sounds like right away, so it may not even look good on the page. But I'm still a word guy. I'm drawn to people who use a certain vernacular and communicate with words.

"Words are music, really. I mean, people ask, 'Do you write music or do you write words?' But you don't really, it's all one thing at its best. Sometimes when making songs you just make sounds, and the sounds slowly mutate and evolve to actual words that have meaning."

When it comes to taking his music on the road, Waits clearly isn't so bothered about collecting air miles. He rarely at all tours these days, so when he brings his Glitter And Doom tour to the Playhouse for a two-night stint starting on Sunday night, fans won't want to miss it.
After all, it could be many years, if at all, when he ever plays live in the Capital again.

"I'm not really a fan of touring," he explained a few years back. "It's so inconvenient. You're far away from home. You're wasting a lot of time sitting around waiting.

"When I was young – oh well, younger – I toured a lot," he added. "I lived out of my suitcase, but now that I have a home, kids, a family, it's different. I guess I'm getting old."

Tom Waits, Edinburgh Playhouse, Greenside Place, Sunday and Monday, 8pm, check at box office for availability, 0844-847 1660