'I'm taking your picture, pigeons. I'm writing you down, Dawn. Allen Ginsberg

I don't have a piano to blame my drinking on. I finished writing the piece on Sunday night, and still can't bring myself to look at it properly. It's changed quite a lot thematically even in the past week, so I know there's some stuff to add. It's personal too, and a bit dark...quite a bit dark. I don't know if I can read it back yet. I might have to finish the bourbon first!

Waits speaks a great deal about his creative process in interviews - when he isn't evading questions or talking about moles - and his writing has been described as the result of scavenging or channeling. He's said that he likes to think of himself as an antenna, and that it's always good to get a place name and a type of food into a song. I read a transcription of a conversation that he had with Jim Jarmusch, where he described driving and reading roadside signs and the people he passed - and those listed items became the raw material for a song. He has a very interesting way of talking about food and places....

I did some scavenging of my own when generating the material for the piece. I found it helpful to set myself little tasks. I started making a list of all of the Waitsian onomatopoeia that cropped up in my reading and listening, mostly the words that critics used when they were describing his voice, or the words he likes to use for their rhythm and musicality. I ended up with about 70 words, that I then grouped into 'families', then I wrote a poem from them - here it is....

The soar dirge slurred and churned in the murky, lurid lurks
Screaming, steaming, streaming in seeds
One last wheezy, scuzzy ooze
Before hoisting and twisting into a waltz

The gravel-coated spatula, dipped a staggering rattle in the batter
Trilled with glitter and sniffing out the grotty beats
With a strop-bop stomp, and a honky-tonk hum plonk
It sucked, soaked, and finally croaked

A shuffle, mumble, warble, stumble and gargle later
The slime glided with spice, sighs and metropolitan slide
Leaving a swizzle drizzle, leering on a groaning, moaning bone
And a woozy boom croon, shooting crude skews

The torch was alight with a grunt and a shunt
Snarling, scraping and scratching the surface
To slam the clanging jangles, crash, flash, smash
Time to lick the brick and flick the whip

There was some scavenging on FB too! A couple of weeks ago I posted asking for words to do with Show-business and Apocalypse - the title of one of Waits' albums is 'Glitter and Doom' which pretty much epitomises his style: Grand Weepers and Grim Reapers. There were some very creative suggestions, it seems lots of my friends enjoy word games, and we all got a bit carried away - I know I did! I've listed them below, and I will find a way to get these into the show! I think they need their own scene!

Tits, Teeth and Terror
Ziegfeld and Zombie
ApocaLips
Apocatits
The End is Thighs
A-Pucker-lips, Now
Fall Out Bunker
Armagetiton
Ragna-Rock
Fabulous Demise
28 Sashays Later
Glamourgeddon
World War Booby-Z
Nuclear Frisson
The End is Knee-High
Cracks of Doom
In Diana Jones: Temple of Strewn...Clothes
Luvvies at the End of the World
Armaggedon in the Round
The Rapture
Grease Damnation
Choc Ices at the End of Time
Act One, Scene Oblivion
Skull and Costume Ring
Show and Tell-ophone Call from Istanbul
End of Days Matinee
Annihilation Razzmatazz
Four Unicorn Men of the Apocalypse
Adrenalin Burst
Pantomime and Pain
Armageddon Artistes

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