There's little risk of confusing Tom Waits with the gentle pop folk who have covered his songs--Rod Stewart, Sarah McLachlan, Everything But the Girl, just to name a few. That's because even though the eccentric songwriter is capable of summoning the most tender sentiments, his preferred method of delivery is through carnival melodies, crackpot instruments, and a bourbon-soaked bark. Real Gone continues the dark experimental streak of not just its predecessors like Alice and Blood Money, but the past 30 years. Yes, the percussion is sharper, the arrangements stranger, and the voice more ghost-like than ever, but at the center of all the chaos remains an uncanny storyteller--capable of ripping down governments ("Sins of My Father") and building up tears ("Day After Tomorrow").