Release Date: October 11, 2011
Label: Anti-

Life's pretty good in the information age.  You can play online blackjack, download tunes and select your adult content for the day (if you're into that sort of thing) - all at once.  It's pretty fantastic.  But it can also be stressful and exhausting.  It's gotten to the point where we feel inadequate if we're behind the curve in any way.  No matter how hard you try, it's still impossible to know everything.  Even today.

Admittedly, I have almost completely missed the boat on Joe Henry.  Reverie is the first album of his that I've spent any time with, and man do I feel stupid.  That said, I have no frame of reference of how this record fits into what seems like a long and successful run.  I'm definitely reminded of some of the more accessible Tom Waits records - folk, jazz and blues are all part of the sound.  Like Waits, Henry doesn't exactly come at his songs with a sunny perspective.  There's not an overabundance of hope here.  And like all great modern American music, Henry adds just enough dissonance to keep you uncomfortable.  

It's difficult to single out tracks, because the album sounds like a complete thought (at least to me) - cryptic reflections on a life that Henry's not particularly proud of.  The stoned-blues guilt of "Sticks & Stones".  The sparse piano and mantra-like lyrics ("...I gave away what never was mine...") of "Strung".  The light-hearted madness of "Grand Street" ("...he spoke to himself, right out loud...").  The sad accusations of "Deathbed Versions" ("...how do you like your blue-eyed boy?").  The pre-death promises of "Eyes Out for You".  All chapters in a book as opposed to a collection of singles.                     

David Fricke (the only good writer left at Rolling Stone) once said something to the effect of, "you have to allow yourself the time" to get what you need out of a good record.  Reverie is that kind of album.  And it is definitely a good album.  It won't knock your socks off right away.  But it will if you're patient.  Not exactly tailor-made for the information age, but that's part of its charm.   
  
         

mp3: Sticks & Stones