01	New Coat of Paint						03:23
	02	San Diego Serenade						03:30
	03	Semi Suite						03:29
	04	Shiver Me Timbers						04:26
	05	Diamonds On My Windshield						03:12
	06	The Heart of Saturday Night						03:53
	07	Fumblin With The Blues						03:02
	08	Please Call Me Baby						04:25
	09	Depot Depot						03:46
	10	Drunk On The Moon						05:06
	11	The Ghost Of Saturday Night						03:16

Asylum (Elektra) 101502
Recorded: 1974, Hollywood, CA

Production co-ordinator: Pamela Vale
Recorded at Wally Heider Recorders, Hollywood
Engineered by Bones Howe;
2nd Engineer: Geoff Howe
Mastering: Terry Dunavan, Elektra Sound Recorders, Los Angeles
Cover Illustration by Napoleon;
Photography: Scott Smith
Art Direction: Cal Schenkel

Thanks to Bill Martin for inspiration on "The Ghosts of Saturday Night"

We would like to express our deepest appreciation to Mike Melvoin o his great creative contributions in working out the "head" arrangements in the studio and for his complimentary Orchestral arrangements and direction.
Patience: Herb Cohen
®© 1974 Elektra/Asylum Records All Rights Reserve

THE HEART OF SATURDAY NIGHT

Year Of Release: 1974
Record rating = 8
Overall rating = 11

Romance makes way for urban panoramas. Well, that's only logical.
Best song: SAN DIEGO SERENADE

Track listing: 1) New Coat Of Paint; 2) San Diego Serenade; 3) Semi Suite; 4) Shiver Me Timbers; 5) Diamonds On My Windshield (Looking For); 6) The Heart Of Saturday Night; 7) Fumblin' With The Blues; 8) Please Call Me Baby; 9) Depot Depot; 10) Drunk On The Moon; 11) The Ghosts Of Saturday Night (After Hours At Napoleon's Pizza House).

The rating went a little bit down for one single reason: Mr Waits didn't bother to write such a near-immaculate collection of melodies second time around. There's nothing in terms of memorability on his second album that would approach gems like 'Ol' 55' or 'Martha'. But you can't do everything at once, and the main goal of this album was actually to branch out and spread. Branch out and spread? Within the late night jazz formula? Sheesh. Don't let people bug you telling that all Tom Waits before he went looney with Swordfishtrombones sounds the same; that'd be a bloody lie. Well, he does sound the same, if it's instrumentation you're speaking of, but the goal of this record is significantly different from the first.
Look at the album covers. On the debut album, Waits is sitting at his piano within the bar; here, Waits is pictured on the street, coming out of the bar against a typical nightlife background. This perfectly reflects the difference in content: Closing Time was mainly devoted to nostalgia and unshared love moanings, while Heart Of Saturday Night is a far more 'biting' album, more in the vein of 'Virginia Avenue' than 'Martha' or 'Rosie'. That's not to say there are no love ballads on here: in fact, I count the best of these, 'San Diego Serenade', as the highest point of the album. A lush, gorgeous, mildly orchestrated piano ballad that hits you below the belt with its minimalism and beautiful lyrics. Of course, it's also very important that it's all a matter of delivery - and Tom's gruff-griff delivery is perfect (I shudder to think how the song could have fared, say, in the hands of Sinatra. Yeeesh!).
But the song's really not typical of the entire album. It usually sounds somewhat rougher, based strictly on the late night jazz formula with rambling piano chords, menacing trombones and dexterous basslines. Yeah, the melodies are formulaic, but the good news is, they are melodies; remember that if there is a melody, it may as well be generic as long as there are nice lyrics and a convincing and unique vocal delivery and image to pull it off. (That said, when there's no melody at all, sometimes even a fascinating vocal delivery doesn't help). The first side of the album is all golden. 'New Coat Of Paint' leads us straight into the old perverted prosperous criminal luxuriant rotten city that the record is dedicated to - "Let's put a new coat of paint on this lonesome old town/Set 'em up, we'll be knockin' em down", Waits proclaims, and that's quite a different start from the humbleness and inoffensiveness of 'Ol' 55', isn't it? Ol' Tom is out for blood. He calms it down immediately on 'San Diego Serenade', but then enters with more sarcasm and bitterness on 'Semi Suite', where he recounts the story of an ol' truck driver and his wife and their predictably uneven relations. There are those "moments" about songs, you know, which can't be explained normally, and the "moment" where Tom growls 'cause he's a truck drivin' man stoppin' when he can' and the trombones rise in unison against his call somehow draws me in so tight I can't turn away. I suppose that's the Waits magic, isn't it? Count me an addict now.
'Shiver Me Timbers' is a stunningly beautiful ballad of a guy leaving home to be at sea. That's about it. I don't know what to add. The infamous trick about all this stuff is I REALLY don't know what to say. Waits gets you by making matters as simplistic and trivial as possible. 'San Diego Serenade' is a simple love ballad. 'Semi Suite' is a simple account of a truck driver's life. 'Shiver Me Timbers' is a simple tale of a guy going to sea. Nothing else. It's not even lyrical minimalism, because the lyrics are well thought-out and even a bit more complex than before. It's... it's some kind of literary minimalism, just artistic minimalism in general. A minimalism that leaves you completely disarmed, as I already mentioned.
And then SLAP! on comes track number five. You were hardly prepared for that one. A jazz rhythm section with a valiant bassline and Waits, in the same standard gruff voice, just recites poetry. That's some sort of "preview" of what would later start coming in spades, but I sure think nobody predicted this turn after listening to Closing Time. It takes time to realize the brilliancy of 'Diamonds On My Windshield', but it is brilliant: an account of a guy's journey in his car through the big city at night. The flowing bass, then, is supposed to illustrate the gradual 'procession' forward, while Waits lists all the flowing impressions. It's fascinating. And then we get to the title track. It's... it's about a guy who just got his pay and takes his girl out on a Saturday night. Full stop. It's beautiful.
Of course, every wonder has to end - I must say that the second half of the album never impressed me that much, mainly because it brings nothing new out; just some more late-night menacing jazz ('Fumblin' With The Blues'), innocent balladry ('Please Call Me Baby'), melancholic introspectivity ('Depot Depot'), sad slow romance ('Drunk On The Moon') and poetic recitations ('The Ghosts Of Saturday Night'). But somehow I think that it we swapped the sides and put the album out that way, I might have raved about this side and kept quiet about the other one. It's all a question of positioning. There's not a weak cut on here, really; it's just that it really hurts to speak in words (hmm, actually, in rhymes, as I just noticed) when you're describing Waits' albums. For a typically "second" record after a typically "groundbreaking first" one, this one's a masterpiece.