Joe Henry

While the typical recording career arcs from more inspired early work to more conventional later stuff, Joe Henry is one of the very few artists (like, say, Tom Waits, Scott Walker) whose music has gotten more challenging and dynamic over time. As such, only the most determined completists need troll the used bins for Henry's out-of-print early albums, 1986's Talk of Heaven, 1989's Murder of Crows, and 1990's Shuffletown. They're full of utterly conventional singer/songwriter fare -- at best, a thinking man's Adult Contemporary -- that crosses mellow piano-man balladry with a slight Southern twang (Billy Joel gone country-rock? Bruce Hornsby does bluegrass?). In places, though, they point to a still-evolving voice and better things to come. One their own, however, these records sound at best workmanlike.

Short Man's Room, which features Minneapolis country-rockers the Jayhawks as backing band, constitutes Henry's first tentative leap toward a style that would warrant notice. While tracks such as "Good Fortune" and "Sault Sainte Marie" are too reminiscent of the Jayhawks to qualify as a distinct new sound for Henry, elsewhere the influence isn't so obvious. Having been recorded live in the studio gives the album a more lively, immediate feel, while bits of fiddle, mandolin, and banjo root the songs in a country tradition that complements Henry's songwriting.

Kindness of the World continues Henry's fling through the still-nascent world of alt-country Amer-icana, and it's here that his development as a stylist begins to pay real dividends. Again utilizing the talents of the Jayhawks and friends such as Victoria Williams, Henry crafts his first consistently compelling collection. In particular, the subtly tragic optimism of "Fireman's Wedding" and the fatal-istic storytelling of "She Always Goes" put him in league with the best country songwriters -- in fact, a cover of Tom T. Hall's "I Flew Over Our House Last Night" fits right into the mix. Meanwhile, "Third Reel" hints at the even more artsy and refined writing to come.

After a three-year absence, Henry returned with Trampoline, on which he not only shifted his sonic palette once again -- embracing a funkier, albeit taut, groove -- but also seemed to find his truest voice. As such, it's his best album to date. Country touches resurface on the acoustic "Go With God (Topless Shoeshine)" and with the pedal steel in "Parade," but many of the record's most impressive tracks are completely removed from anything Henry's done before. He was certainly never the obvious choice to cover Sly Stone, as he does here with "Let Me Have It All." "Ohio Air Show Plane Crash" is mesmerizing in its subtle guitar churn, and the lyrics read like a modernist (very) short story. So do the words of "Flower Girl," which, accompanied by pump organ and orchestrations, invites comparison to Tom Waits' off-kilter later work. Tying it all together is a moody, atmospheric production that adds sophistication to Henry's ever-sharpening songcraft.

Fuse and Scar not only continue Henry's fascination with highly imagistic, one-word titles, they also push his music further into the intellectual/sophisticate/hipster realm Trampoline first entered. Where Fuse's "Monkey" and "Like She Was a Hammer" maximize the juice of a subtle hook using tension and repetition, "Fat," "Want Too Much," and the instrumental "Curt Flood" flirt with jazz colors and riffs. Meanwhile, the New Orleans funeral march of "Beautiful Hat" (courtesy of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band) and "We'll Meet Again," with its David Lynch-style sunny/sinister edge, offer other new settings for Henry's writing. Scar embraces jazz even more fully with help from Ornette Coleman ("Richard Pryor Addresses a Tearful Nation") and former Waits guitarist Marc Ribot ("Stop"), and with "Struck" and "Lock and Key" also explores a type of hushed, adult-pop art song not far removed from the work of Brazilian composer Caetano Veloso. While Scar can get too artsy and esoteric for its own good, both it and Fuse show how Henry has developed into a singularly adventurous songwriter who continues to take chances in expanding his vocabulary.

Tiny Voices further refines the lounge-jazz, art-song approach Henry launched with Fuse and Scar, achieving here his most rewarding returns of the trilogy. Again backed by first-rate jazz musicians, including clarinetist Don Byron, Henry crafts works that, while mild on the surface, brim with grandeur, edge, funk, poetry, and even a fair number of irresistible hooks. This is for anyone who thinks adult pop doesn't have to be easy listening. – (RONI SARIG)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide