On his third album, singer-song-writer Joe Henry abandons the Seventies-style album-rock sound of last year's Murder of Crows in favor of a production approach seemingly inspired by the Cowboy Junkies' sonic milestone, The Trinity Session; that is, he has assembled a group of mostly acoustic players and cut them live, directly to two-track master tape. Among its other virtues, Shuffletown, produced by T Bone Burnett, is a testament to the effectiveness of unvarnished recording in accurately capturing mood and vitality, as well as sheer, seductive sound. Throughout this beautifully realized effort, the violin and mandolin of David Mansfield, the piano of Phil Kelly, the muted trumpet of Don Cherry and the upright bass of Cecil McBee create an austere but palpable ambience that animates the existential languor of Henry's music by all but convincing the listener that the musicians are right there in the room.

The instruments speak with such straightforward eloquence that they underscore the frequent absence of that same quality in Henry's lyrics. Too often, compelling setups (for example, "And if the morning leaves you/With just the afternoon/In the darkness of your room," from "Helena by the Avenue") are negated by maddeningly obscure payoffs ("Helena, you will find/The avenues are most unkind"). At times, Henry's predilection for spinning Dylanesque verbal webs opens up into vivid imagery, as in the lilting "Charlevoix" and the metaphoric sea chantey "Land." But in general, Henry's consistently lovely melodies and parched, melancholy delivery are best served by literal, anecdotal songs like the sad, subtly sinister "Date for Church," which describes with poetic incisiveness a courtship conducted from a distance and without the awareness, much less the consent, of the object of the singer's affections.

Shuffletown ultimately is a tease, drawing the listener in with its evocativeness, only to retreat into introspective closure. Clearly, Henry has found the ideal sound with which to put across his highly personal music; perhaps next time he'll make expressive use of his gift for language rather than hiding behind it. (RS 592)

BUD SCOPPA