He started his career in the early 1970s as a singer in spit 'n' sawdust bars. Initially, he was deeply influenced by the beat generation, novelists like Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs, and poets like Allen Ginsberg and Charles Bukowski. Waits is often compared to Charles Bukowski, being similar both in content and lifestyle
Waits was unable to make a living from his music in the 70s because his classical bar music, based in pre-rock, and Americana, blues, and Vaudeville styles were not popular. Waits's voice back then was soft, warm and clear.
Waits subsequently developed a devoted cult following and has influenced subsequent songwriters, despite having little radio or music video support. In fact, his songs are perhaps best known to the general public in the form of cover versions of more visible artists, such as the Eagles, Bruce Springsteen and Rod Stewart.
Although Waits’s albums have met with mixed commercial success in his native United States, they have occasionally achieved gold album sales status in other countries.
Lyrically, Waits's songs are known for atmospheric portrayals of seedy characters and places; he sings about the losers on the streets: alcoholics, junkies, prostitutes and social outcasts, although he also includes more conventional and touching ballads in his repertoire.
While opening for Frank Zappa, the audience catcalled and refused to listen to him; he was an unsuitable match with Zappa's avantgarde style.
Countless cigarettes, gallons of alcohol and many all night parties eventually left their trace in his face and voice.
His more recent gravelly voice can be first heard on Small Change. This distinctive voice turned out to be his trademark. It is described by the Music Hound Rock Album Guide as sounding "like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months and then taken outside and run over with a car". Small Change with its sentimental ballads, its bar-jazz attitude and Film Noir-oriented stories turned out to be his biggest commercial success in the 1970s.
Waits subsequently developed a more unique style. His songs have grown more abrasive since then, and the arrangements have turned more surreal and experimental with every new record. His life brings him to new visions, as indicated by the direction taken in his "Alice" release.
While composing the soundtrack for Francis Ford Coppola's One From The Heart Waits met Kathleen Brennan, his bride-to-be. They married in 1980 and she helped him quit drinking and smoking. Since their marriage they have been working together on his albums as co-producers and co-writers. It is hard to say which part belongs to her and which to him, but it's easy to see that they make a perfect team. Additionally, his eldest son Casey can be heard on turntables and percussion on Waits's album "Real Gone".
One of Waits's greatest successes was the album "Swordfishtrombones", released in 1983. It struck with his critics and fans alike. He achieved a new level of song writing and left former conventions (and his earlier career) behind. All songs, whether ballads, jive or jazz are played in a completely different way. It seems that Waits had taken the musical archetypes of these styles and made them his own. All tracks are in the quintessential Waits style. They have a striking rawness and listenability and they set the stage for his success and his future career.
The Bad As Me Songfacts reports that 36 years after the release of Waits' first album, Closing Time in 1973, Bad As Me became Waits's first ever top 10 album in the US when it debuted at #6 with 63,000 sales.
In the late 1980s Waits discovered an outlet for his creativity in composing musicals. His first Musical was named "The Black Rider", and is based on "Der Freischütz" by Carl Maria von Weber. It was co-produced by Robert Wilson and the lyrics come from William S. Burroughs. The story is slightly reminiscent of Kurt Weil's and Berthold Brecht's "Three Penny Opera" and the 1930s. The debut performance of the play was in 1990 at the Thalia Theater, Hamburg and has been played by various theatre groups since then.
Waits was also responsible for two other musicals, which later became albums released simultaneously in 2002. One was the musical "Blood Money," which covers the "Woyczek" theme of Georg Büchner. This one is one of the darkest works from Waits. The other musical is based on Lewis Carroll's classic children's novel, "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". "Alice" is very romantic, dreamy and soft, and contains one of Waits most romantic songs. Even though they were released at the same time, the bootlegs of the "Alice" musical were long before traded between fans and were just rearranged and re-mastered for the official release.
Besides many film contributions as composer – the Internet Movie Database imdb.com lists 47 appearances of Waits as composer and 38 soundtracks containing songs by Waits - he also is an actor with a total of 25 appearances, ranging from some mini-roles as a trumpeter in "Heart of Saturday Night" and the R. M. Renfield in "Bram Stoker's Dracula" to the major role of Zack in Jim Jarmusch's "Down by Law". He recently appeared in Roberto Benigni's "The Tiger and the Snow", playing You Can Never Hold Back Spring at Benigni's wedding dream. Even more recently, Waits played Mr.Nick (the Devil) in Terry Gilliam's "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus".
In addition to a number of concert videos, he also appeared in the critically-acclaimed concert feature film "Big Time" (1990).
Waits has always refused to allow the use of his songs in commercials. He has filed several lawsuits against advertisers for using his material without permission. Waits also successfully sued an advertiser for using a work that was stylistically similar to his work, after he had declined to sell them the rights to his song. He has been quoted as saying, "Apparently the highest compliment our culture grants artists nowadays is to be in an ad — ideally naked and purring on the hood of a new car. I have adamantly and repeatedly refused this dubious honor."
16 Shells from a 30-Ought-Six
Tom Waits Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from a pawnshop marimba
And I leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion tree
And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy from an old French horn
And I kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothesline
Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail
That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule
Strapped him on the back of my old kick mule
Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Oh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
"16 Shells from a 30.6" is a Tom Waits blues rock song that tells a surrealistic story of a hunter pursuing a Black Crow with a thirty-ought-six rifle. The song is highly metaphorical, and its lyrics have multiple interpretations. The first stanza describes the singer's preparation for hunting the crow. He has used all his resources to make a ladder, cooked pig corn, and fashioned a whip from an old French horn. The next stanza is about climbing to the top of a tree where he intends to shoot the crow. In the third stanza, he makes a Washburn guitar by using a car as its body, and he uses it to lure and trap the crow. The last part of the song talks about the singer tormenting the crow with the guitar, strumming it loudly to rattle its cage.
The song's meaning is highly debated, but most interpretations talk about social commentary on human's relationship with nature, power dynamics, and redemption. The Black Crow can be seen as a metaphor for nature, which humans try to conquer and control, using their tools and technology. The singer's obsession with the crow and trying to break its spirit reflects the human desire for power and dominance over other beings. However, in the end, the singer's actions do not bring him satisfaction, and he continues to torment the crow to feel alive. Many suggest that the song might also symbolize a deep psychological struggle of the human consciousness.
Line by Line Meaning
Plugged sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
I fired sixteen rounds of ammunition from a thirty-ought-six rifle
And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky
The Black Crow flew away quickly and quietly
So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
I used all my money on purchasing an old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from a pawnshop marimba
I improvised and made a ladder using a marimba instrument that I bought from a pawnshop
And I leaned up against a dandelion tree
I rested my back against a dandelion tree
I'm gonna cook them feathers on a tiny spit
I plan to roast the bird's feathers on a small fire
And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn
I took a sack and filled it with old corn meant for pigs
And I beat me a billy from an old French horn
I made a club using an old French horn
And I kicked that mule to the top of the tree
I kicked the mule and made it climb to the top of the tree
Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum
I created a hole about the size of a kick drum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow
I cut a switch from a long and curved tree branch
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
I am going to break you down into small pieces of kindling
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
I shot at the black crow using sixteen rounds of ammunition from my thirty-ought-six rifle
Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed
I slept in the low area of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
I removed the seats from a red Corvette car
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Three people including Lionel, Dave, and the Butcher were involved
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
We need to meet at the joint parts of the skinny and bony tree branches
With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothesline
The Washburn guitar strings are stretched tightly like a clothesline
Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and the mule quickly crawled through the hole
Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail
I have imprisoned the black crow inside a Washburn guitar
That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule
I strapped the guitar, with the black crow, on the back of my old mule
Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
I bang on the guitar strings with the intention of driving the black crow insane
Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage
I strum the guitar strings loudly to agitate the black crow inside
Oh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
I am going to break you down into small pieces of kindling
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
I shot at the black crow using sixteen rounds of ammunition from my thirty-ought-six rifle
Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: THOMAS A. WAITS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@thehoff1793
I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
And a black crow snuck through
A hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an
Old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from
A pawn shop marimba
And I leaned it up against
A dandelion treeAnd I filled me a satchel
Full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy
From an old French horn
And I kicked that mule
To the top of the tree
And I blew me a hole
'Bout the size of a kick drum
And I cut me a switch
From a long branch elbowI'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-sixWell I slept in the holler
Of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets
From a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
@tasrog6285
Plugged sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
And I made me a ladder from a pawnshop marimba
And I leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion tree
Leaned up against a dandelion treeI'm gonna cook them feathers on a tiny spit
And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy from an old French horn
And I kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbowI'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-sixWell, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothesline
Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and that mule scrambled right through the holeI'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-sixNow I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail
That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule
Strapped him on the back of my old kick mule
Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cageOh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Read more: Tom Waits - 16 Shells From A 30.06 Lyrics | MetroLyrics
@greenxxghostie
I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
And the Black Crow snuck through a hole in the sky
So I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
Oh, and I made me a ladder from a pawn shop marimba
And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree
Leaned it up against a dandelion tree
Leaned it up against a dandelion tree
I'm gonna cook them feathers on a tire iron spit
And I filled me a satchel full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy from an old French horn
Oh, and I kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Kicked that mule to the top of the tree
And I blew me a hole 'bout the size of a kickdrum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Well, I slept in the holler of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the bucket from a red Corvette
Tore out the bucket from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Oh, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings of a Washburn stretched like a clothes line
Oh, you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Now I hold him prisoner in a Washburn jail
That I strapped on the back of my old kick mule
Strapped on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
Oh, I strum it loud to rattle his cage
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Oh, I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
Whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow, sixteen shells from a thirty-ought-six
@MrSirDrew
Lyrics
I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
and a Black Crow snuck through
a hole in the sky
so I spent all my buttons on an
old pack mule
and I made me a ladder from
a pawn shop marimba
and I leaned it up against
a dandelion tree
And I filled me a sachel
full of old pig corn
and I beat me a billy
from an old French horn
and I kicked that mule
to the top of the tree
and I blew me a hole
'bout the size of a kickdrum
and I cut me a switch
from a long branch elbow
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
Well I slept in the holler
of a dry creek bed
and I tore out the buckets
from a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
with the strings of a Washburn
stretched like a clothes line
you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
in a Washburn jail
that stapped on the back
of my old kick mule
strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just
to drive him crazy
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
strum it loud just to rattle his cage
in a Washburn jail
that stapped on the back
of my old kick mule
strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just
to drive him crazy
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
strum it loud just to rattle his cage
@RaVenDaWn999
Lotsa chat below to prove we know our A&O... so many men, I respect them, their platoons, real risk, I get to go in alone, my brother, as well, we are specialists and for all that damn gun talk, you all got no idea, what a man can do with just what's around him, yes, whittle you down to toothpicks. I hunt with only a blade. Been used by my Uncle Sam, been deep UC in Death Row too, so what is there left to prove and who really cares, when everyone wants to be admired for this type of shit, I love tom, grew up with him, and y'all get stuck on the guns well, that'd be shameful to miss his point... then again, who says may not know, who knows may not say. They sent me into the hot zones, SE Asia, '03 Indonesia... I could go on. I saw that we have some real experts here about all that. What's good about the Service is you get a huge and heavy duty family; what's good about being alone on Assignment, my task depends on me. I'm not a killer by choice, not a killer by noise, no not a killer at all, despite the tally, I am now a man of peace and I go to get the Accords... by pen or by sword. I never fail. My own will come get me, yet there would not be time. No. I am the only one left of the many I trained with. Hey y'all with the rifle and the facts- I really liked that, learn something more than the songs explore, so I give you something back, and hope is a place you never been and you never go.
Aw shucks, I'm just woods folk, what do I know. 30+ countries, 25 conflicts, and I expect a world of peace. My blade never misses, not a K-Bar, not a Ginzu, just a homemade piece of hard cold death, and I use it for camping. Ya' gotta bury stuff or the Beast comes round. From Secaucus to Cat Bah, ahh what a beautiful world. I have a mean-ass hound, growls and bites, named him Chad, yet he only answers to "attack"... surreal, we write what we know, so that makes us all the same. Every good man or woman had to take that shot, it was all of us... nobody gets a pass. Lock and load, if'n you must. Hah! Rust never does sleep, does it...
"The Devil's Mask"
Land mines in the sunshine,
Jump spry spy, …or just die!
This word, we call it peace,
Yet itself, it is the beast,
So often tested by god and the devil.
They trade appearance and see who will follow.
Yes, god and the devil trade places
And see who will follow.
"Another Shot of Gun Grease"
Four mags empty and to the nearest town I go,
The boys at the checkpoints, they all know
To live another day, look the other way.
I’m coming through.
There’s a bar over by the burning police car,
A place to go do as I please.
Bartender, bartender,
Make it a double.
I’ll have another shot of gun grease.
Hey! You there, in the churches,
Get the fuck UP off your knees!
Time to please the almighty appetite
With a bigger body count.
Wrath and wraith, have thou faith-
Yes, he plays the numbers, checks the dailies…
Your prayers are delivered,
and your agony, he sees.
I’ll have another shot of gun grease.
Gun grease, please; …. gun grease
~s’all against the wall~
….by RaVen DaWn….
@jaybones8457
This is unironically one of the greatest songs ever recorded. Don't have the words to describe what it evokes. Discovered Tom Waits 30 years ago and still listening.
@wildbillbegleyjr.3523
How old are You, thirty years ago. Blast that sounds like me I'm 66 now
@JasonsMove
Just heard for first time about a month ago. Incredible! This song is in my soul now. 😎
@Noblesavage77
Music and poetry soaked in gasoline and washed in mud.... damn hypnotic beauty
@1953SM
And he gargles with hydrochloric acid because that's the only way you could get a fantastic voice like that,lololol!
@MitchellMaichak-ze7mr
Dylan was " assigned " ( though he publicly refused it ) " THE VOICE OF A GENERATION ". Waits sounds like " The Voice of the Apocalypse " !!!
@andrewparkinson1332
Guitar part is sick...one of Toms best..honestly never gets old
@00IIIIIIIII00
Never met this man, but I love him like a brother.
@00IIIIIIIII00
We are ALL the same...We are ALL here at the Same time...Time to figure it all out.
@ElbertLeeIII
that high pinging sound is tom hitting a boiler with a wrench... they toured with a damned boiler! The guitarist awsome! Marc Ribot...