Joe Henry's long strange trip from Dylan-shaded country/folk balladeer to boho sonic sculptor has been a fascinating career arc. While his early work was a sterling example of what singer/songwriters can accomplish when they sing from the heart rather than merely about it, Henry chafed at being considered in the same breath as his more pedestrian peers. His restless creativity led him to pursue a more viscerally challenging direction, first with the rhythmically powerful Trampoline in 1996, then the sonic deconstructionism of 1999's brilliant Fuse and finally the jazz juiced wonder of 2001's Scar.
It's clear from Henry's last three albums that he doesn't particularly apply the standard industry wisdom to his work (Mammoth tried to talk him out of releasing Trampoline in '96), nor does he concern himself with market trends. With the release of Tiny Voices, his ninth album and debut for Brett Gurewitz's Epitaph imprint Anti, Henry finally feels completely comfortable in the sonic smoking jacket he's been fashioning for himself over the past seven years. On Tiny Voices, Henry has given free rein to his creative songwriting soul just as he's become labelmates with Tom Waits, the one person to whom his latter work owes a debt.
The jazz that colored Scar is now in full bloom on Tiny Voices, as Henry incorporates Waitsian instrumentation and arranging strategies to his already potent noirish story songs ("Sold," the title track) while never forgetting his folk rock roots ("Dirty Magazines," "Leaning"). Although not every Joe Henry fan will follow him down this bold path, it's obvious that Henry is satisfying his innermost soul by appealing to fans of music, and not necessarily fans of his music.