TORONTO - It would be a safe bet that every show Tom Waits puts on is worthy of a live album or concert film.

Considering the fact that the legendary singer, songwriter and all-round musical anomaly's definitive performances of the 1970s and '80s were captured on Nighthawks At The Diner and Big Time, respectively, his showing last night at the Hummingbird Centre would make an ideal live document of his '90s work should the tapes -- if any -- ever see the light of day.

It was that good.

And it's not like there are many shows to choose from.

Last night, the first of two sold-out shows at Hummingbird, marked Waits' first Toronto appearance since the Big Time tour in 1987. Likewise, his "Get Behind The Mule" tour, in support of the current Mule Variations album, marks his time out on the road in over a decade.

All that lent the evening a true sense of occasion, to be sure.

The 49-year-old Waits made a suitably grand but ramshackle entrance: From the back of the theatre, barking through his megaphone like the ringmaster in a circus sideshow, sowing sparkly confetti, and kicking into 1993's The Black Rider.

But then something unique happened. Waits, a consummate showman and delightfully screwy storyteller, put on a two-and-a-half hour show so free of pretense, so perfect in pace, that somehow it didn't feel like a performance at all.

Rather, it was like watching the singer unfurl 30 years of dreams and nightmares on some weird aural canvass.

High-falutin' stuff, yeah, but Waits also has the canny ability to keep it gritty, too.

With his famous mug, rumpled suit, and porkpie hat, he looked like a Roaring '20s political cartoon caricature come to life, tramping up clouds of dry ice from his wooden stomp board. Behind him, some deep red lighting and a beautiful junk pile of musical odds-and-ends manned by a quartet that featured longtime stand-up bassist Larry Taylor, guitarist Smokey Hormel and excellent percussionist Andrew Borger.

New songs like the rugged Get Behind The Mule and bizarre Eyeball Kid and Chocolate Jesus were surprising crowd-pleasers, and Waits' spoken-word, dramatically lit encore take on What's He Building? was more theatre than rock concert.

After surveying audience opinion on old numbers -- "Go to hell," he deadpanned after hearing the roar of approval -- he indulged them on piano with the breathtaking Innocent When You Dream and, later, 16 Shells From A Thirty-ought Six and I Don't Wanna Grow Up, among others.

To call Waits's music timeless doesn't do it justice.

Conjuring up the ghosts of American Civil War spirituals, sultry pre-WWII cabaret, 1950's street thuggery, and post-Dylan and embracing them with a modern-day avante-garde band, he was simply amazing to experience.

JAM! Rating: 5 out of 5