Welcome to today's Deep Dive. We're really thrilled
to have you here with us. We definitely are.
It's a pretty wild one today. It is. You know,
we spend so much time on this show looking at
artists through the lens of their official histories.
Right. The carefully curated stories they tell
the world. Exactly. The meticulously produced
albums, the big PR campaigns. But today, we're
taking a completely different path. A very different
path. Yeah. We're looking at a puzzle piece that...
absolutely refuses to fit into the official box.
We've got our hands on the Wikipedia page for
a 2009 live album by Tom Waits. It's called Romeo
Bleeding, live from Austin. And our mission today
is to explore the incredibly peculiar details
of this release and uncover what makes it such
a unique, almost rogue element in this artist's
history. Really is a fascinating artifact. When
you dig into any major musician's discography,
you're usually expecting a relatively straight
chronological line of, you know, approved work.
Yeah, a narrative that the artist actually control.
Right. But the source material we're looking
at today immediately throws us a curveball. It
genuinely challenges our understanding of how
an artist's legacy is built. And maybe more importantly,
how that legacy is recorded in public encyclopedias
where literally anyone can look it up. Exactly.
Okay, let's unpack this. Let's start with the
basic undeniable facts laid out right at the
top of our source. Let's do it. We're looking
at an album categorized in the genre of blues
rock. It has a very precise runtime of 52 minutes
and three seconds. Down to the second. Right.
And it was released in the year 2009 by a record
label called Immortal slash IMC Music LPD. But
here is the massive twist that just jumps right
off the page. Yeah, this is the crazy part. The
actual recording of this music didn't happen
anywhere near 2009. It took place decades earlier,
specifically on December 5, 1978, in Austin,
Texas. Right. And that massive gap from December
1978 all the way to a commercial release in 2009,
that's our first major clue that we're dealing
with something highly unusual here. But the most
glaring sentence in the entire source text, the
one that really frames this whole discussion
and changes how you hear the music, is just seven
words long. Yeah. Right there in the introductory
paragraph, it states flatly, this album is not
approved by the artist. Which is wild. But wait,
if he didn't approve it, how does it end up with
a commercial release in 2009? I mean, doesn't
an artist have control over their own voice and
their own live shows? You would think so. But
the reality of the music industry, especially
concerning old live broadcasts, is incredibly
murky. Often these recordings stem from old radio
broadcasts or soundboard tapes. where copyright
loopholes allow third -party labels, frequently
based in Europe like IMC Music, to release them
legally. Wow. Yeah, entirely without the artist's
consent or involvement. When an album is unapproved,
it means Tom Waits didn't oversee the mastering.
He didn't choose the cover art. He didn't sequence
the tracks, and he certainly didn't endorse its
release to you, the public. It's like someone
broke into a time capsule from a sweaty 1978
club in Austin, Texas, dusted off whatever tape
they found and just shoved it onto the shelf
next to all his pristine artist approved artifacts.
What's fascinating here is how this unapproved
album completely disrupts the official timeline
of his live releases. Oh, absolutely. Our source
gives us a specific chronological box for his
live albums. If we walk through it, you see that
in 1988, he released an acclaimed live album
called Big Time. Right. After that, there's a
massive 21 -year gap in his live album chronology.
Nothing official for over two decades. And then
we arrive at the year 2009. And 2009 is a wild
year in this timeline because two major things
happen at the exact same time. Precisely. In
2009, this unapproved album, Romeo Bleeding,
live from Austin, gets dropped onto the market.
Yeah. But 2009 is also the exact same year Tom
waits. releases his highly anticipated official
live album. Glitter and Doom Live. Yes, which
was connected to his meticulously planned Glitter
and Doom tour. So imagine you're a fan walking
into a record store in 2009. On one side of the
aisle, you have Glitter and Doom Live. It's an
official modern release representing exactly
who the artist is at that moment. Right. And
right next to it, directly competing for your
attention in your wallet, you have Romeo Bleeding,
this rogue, unapproved ghost from a Texas stage
31 years prior. It's crazy. And because public
encyclopedias like Wikipedia just log the facts
of what was released and when, they're sitting
side by side in historical chronology, carrying
the exact same weight in that little timeline
box on the page. It's a profound collision of
eras. It really cannibalizes the narrative. You're
seeing the artist as he actively wanted to be
seen in 2009, forced to share the spotlight with
an unauthorized echo of his 1978 self. It really
highlights the tension between the curated legacy
an artist wants to build and the untamable nature
of their own history once it's out in the wild.
It does. It's totally wild to think about. But
we really need to get into the music itself because
the track list on this 1978 recording is just
staggering. Here's where it gets really interesting.
Oh the track list is incredible. We mentioned
the album is 52 minutes and 3 seconds long. but
there are only seven tracks on the entire thing.
Which tells you immediately that these aren't
your standard punchy three -minute radio singles.
Not at all. This is an endurance run. It's a
theatrical performance. Oh, absolutely. These
tracks are dense, sprawling, multi -part medleys.
He's combining his own original gritty compositions
with some truly surprising covers. When you look
at the breakdown of these seven tracks, you start
to see just how much heavy lifting he was doing
on stage. Take track one, for example. Such a
huge... It's an absolute monster. It clocks in
at 11 minutes and 16 seconds. Imagine walking
out on stage and opening your set with an 11
minute marathon. It's a medley that kicks off
with Summertime, which the source notes was written
by George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin and DuBose Hayward.
And he seamlessly blends that classic into his
own original song, Burma Shave. To open a sweaty
blues rock set in Austin with a classic from
the Great American Songbook and then transition
it into one of your own cinematic narrative pieces,
it shows an immense amount of confidence. He's
demanding the audience's attention right out
of the gate. He's setting a mood that is incredibly
theatrical rather than just playing the hits.
And he doesn't give them much of a breather because
he keeps that medley energy going right into
track two, which is another long one at seven
minutes and 28 seconds. Yeah, the trio. Exactly.
It's a trio of tunes woven together. It starts
with Annie's back in town, moves into I Wish
I Was in New Orleans, and then finishes with
a traditional song called Ain't Gonna Rain. And
the source specifically credits Ain't Gonna Rain
as traditional with a capital T. This is where
we really see the layered musical experience
taking shape. You have his own gritty urban original
sitting comfortably right alongside traditional
folk music. He's drawing from these deep, dusty
American roots and pulling them into his own.
Bohemian universe. It's not just a concert. It's
a curated tour of American musical history, filtered
through his specific aesthetic. Then we get into
the middle section of the album, which gives
the medleys a rest. Tracks 3, 4, and 5 are standalone
Tom Waits compositions. Pure Waits. Exactly.
No covers, no mashups here. Track 3 is a sweet
little bullet from a pretty blue gun, and even
as a standalone, it stretches to a massive 7
minutes and 42 seconds. Track 4 is on the nickel,
coming in at 6 minutes and 10 seconds. And track
5 is the title track of this whole unapproved
release, Romeo is Bleeding, which is a relatively
tight 4 minutes and 59 seconds. It's a very smart
structural choice for a live show. Moving from
those massive demanding opening medleys into
these focused standalone narratives gives the
audience a chance to really latch on to his distinct
voice and piano work. For sure. Romeo's Bleeding
and On the Nickel are pure undiluted weights.
They anchor the middle of the performance and
give us a really clear picture of how he paced
the energy in that room back in 78. But just
when you think you have the rhythm of the show
figured out, track six comes along. Yeah. I honestly
had to do a double take when I was reading the
source material for this one. I know exactly
what you're going to say. Track six is five minutes
and 51 seconds long, and it's a holiday mashup.
But I guarantee it's the most bizarre, unique
holiday mashup you could ever imagine. It really
is. It starts with Silent Night, and our source
dutifully credits Franz Gruber and Jaceph Moore
as the writers of this serene 19th century Austrian
Christmas carol. And he transitions directly
from that sacred hymn into an original titled
Christmas Carol. card from a hooker in Minneapolis.
The artistic juxtaposition there is just brilliant.
It's crazy. It's almost cinematic in how jarring
it is. You take this revered, quiet, universally
recognized hymn by Gruber and Moore, a song associated
with peace and holiness, and you smash it directly
into a tragic comic, street -level story about
a sex worker writing a letter from prison. I
can only imagine what the crowd in that Austin
venue thought. You're swaying along to Silent
Night and suddenly you're thrust into this gritty
Midwestern narrative. Exactly. But it perfectly
encapsulates the poetry that defines his entire
genre. He takes the sacred and the profane, the
holy and the broken, and binds them together
in a single, nearly six -minute track. It shows
a level of literary ambition that you rarely
see in a standard blues rock concert. And finally,
we reach the grand finale, track seven. It's
eight minutes and 37 seconds long, and he brings
back the medley format for one last ride. A huge
finish. He weaves his original song, Small Change,
with another massive cover, the Broadway classic
Hey Big Spender, written by Cy Coleman and Dorothy
Fields. And then he brings it all back home with
a reprise of Small Change. If you synthesize
what the seven -track sequence actually tells
us about him as a performer, it's a masterclass
in musical blending. Absolutely. He isn't just
staying in one lane. He's pulling from the great
American songbook with Gershwin. He's pulling
from traditional American folk with... Ain't
gonna rain. He's utilizing traditional Christmas
carols. And he's channeling Broadway show tunes
with Coleman and Field's Hey Big Spender. And
he filters every single piece of it through his
own smoke -filled blues rock lens. It's amazing.
It's a deeply complex musical ecosystem captured
on a single December night. And the thing is,
he didn't create that massive sound alone. Let's
talk about the personnel, the people who were
actually up on that stage bringing this incredibly
complex 52 -minute show to life. The band is
crucial here. We know from the source that he's
handling the lead vocals and the piano. But the
band backing him up is doing some serious heavy
lifting to make these transitions work. We have
Arthur Richardson on guitar, John Tomasey on
the drums, and Greg Cohen holding down the rhythm
on the bass guitar. Yes. But the absolute standout
in this personnel list, the guy who must have
been working overtime, has to be Herbert Hardesty.
Oh, Herbert Hardesty's role is remarkable when
you look at the credits. The source lists him
playing not one, not two, but three different
brass instruments. Yeah, it's wild. He's credited
with saxophone, trumpet, and flugelhorn. I'm
just picturing the logistics of this on a cramped
stage, having one guy juggling a sax, a trumpet,
and a flugelhorn, trying to keep up while the
band weaves through Gershwin, then traditional
folk, then gritty blues rock, and then Broadway.
That's a workout. The sheer talent and stamina
required is mind -blowing. It speaks volumes
about the versatility required to back an artist
who refuses to play things straight. You have
a five -piece band creating this massive theatrical,
almost orchestral sound. But if we connect this
to the bigger picture, looking at this unapproved
live album in a vacuum really only tells half
the story. Right. To truly understand why an
unapproved release like Romeo Bleeding matters
so much, we have to look at the sheer weight
and volume of his official, carefully approved
work. Right, because if you scroll down to the
references and see also sections of this Wikipedia
page, it's basically a giant, sprawling map of
the Tom Waits universe. The catalog is intimidatingly
huge. It's a monumental discography. Just looking
at the studio albums listed in the source, we're
talking about 16 full -length official studio
releases. It spans decades of creative evolution.
You see him starting with the 70s beatnik jazz
era, with Closing Time and Nighthawks at the
Diner, and evolving through the 80s with albums
like Swordfish Trombones and Rain Dogs, all the
way through his later masterpieces like Mule
Variations, Blood Money, and Up to Bad as Me.
That's 16 distinct, meticulously planned, recorded,
and officially approved chapters of his life.
And the list doesn't even stop at standard studio
albums. The source points out that his work crosses
over into entirely different mediums. He has
soundtracks listed here, like his work for the
films Night on Earth and One from the Heart.
Yes, and he's heavily involved in the theater,
too. The source lists The Black Rider, which
actually does double duty in this reference list.
It's categorized as an album. but also under
his musicals, alongside another stage production
titled Wojcik. Wow. So you're looking at a guy
who is writing stage musicals, scoring feature
films, and curating massive studio efforts. There's
also a whole section dedicated to compilations.
You see titles summarizing different eras, like
the early years, beautiful maladies and the incredibly
named orphans, brawlers, ballers and bastards.
Great title. Plus, the source links out to related
articles pointing us to key collaborators like
Kathleen Brennan and related projects like the
film version of Big Time or tribute collections
where other artists honor him. Like, come on
up to the house. Women sing weights. When you
lay all of that out. The 16 studio albums, the
film soundtracks, the avant -garde stage musicals,
the official compilations, the massive tours.
You see an artist who has spent his entire adult
life carefully constructing a very specific,
highly intentional musical universe. Yeah. He
is incredibly prolific, but he's also fiercely
protective of the details. Every official release
is deliberate. Which brings us right back to
the glaring anomaly of Romeo bleeding. Yeah.
Live from Austin. Exactly. It exists entirely
outside of that intentional construction. It's
a rogue element sitting right in the middle of
this giant, carefully curated ecosystem placed
there by a European label without his sign off.
So what does this all mean? Let's synthesize
this journey for you. We've spent this deep dive
exploring a very specific time capsule. A 52
-minute, 3 -second recording capturing a sweaty
December night in 1978 in Austin, Texas. A performance
that showcases an artist at the height of his
theatrical powers, characterized by a gritty
blues rock foundation, but elevated by highly
complex, sprawling medleys that demand the audience's
full attention. Right. You've got 11 -minute
openers combining Gershwin's classic American
songwriting with his own original poetry. Yeah.
You've got the breathtaking audacity of smashing
Silent Night into Christmas card from a hooker
in Minneapolis. You've got Broadway classics
seamlessly integrated into the setlist. And done
so well. And it's all brought to life by an incredibly
versatile five -piece band featuring a horn player
somehow juggling three different brass instruments.
An undeniable piece of musical history. And yet,
despite the reality of that 1978 night, the 2009
commercial release remains totally unapproved
by the artist who actually lived it. It's so
strange. It was dropped into the market the exact
same year as his official tour album. creating
this bizarre chronological overlap where his
past is actively competing with his present.
It's such a fascinating puzzle. It gives us this
raw, unfiltered, bootleg look at a legendary
artist. But it does so without his permission,
bypassing all his usual quality control. This
raises an important question, something for you
to really mull over long after we wrap up today.
OK. When an artist spends decades meticulously
building a legacy, curating 16 studio albums,
writing stage musicals, scoring films and orchestrating
massive global tours, what happens to that legacy
when unapproved? Raw recordings from their distant
past are commercially released. That's a great
point. When a label puts out an unauthorized
album and it gets permanently archived in public
encyclopedias right alongside their official,
painstakingly crafted work, who truly owns the
history of a live performance? Is it the artist
who created the music, or is it the public record
that captures the fact that it happened? That
is such a brilliant thought to leave on. The
tension between an artist's curated history and
the raw, unapproved archives that inevitably
surface to challenge it. We want to thank you
so much for joining us on this deep dive into
the unexpected and slightly rogue corners of
music history. It's been an absolute blast unpacking
this 1978 time capsule with you. Keep questioning
the official narratives, keep digging into the
archives, and above all, keep exploring. Until
next time.