Joe Henry
Joe Henry, the great American singer-songwriter, has released another poetic and thoughtful album, Reverie.
It's acoustic music – bluesy, jazzy, dreamy and slightly off kilter, concerning the escape of heaven, songs as fuel and how circuses leave muddy fields after they're gone.
From his home outside Los Angeles, Henry, who is perhaps best known for his production work, spoke about his projects – some his own, some with others, and some not yet realized.
On Bonnie Raitt's forthcoming new album Slipstream, her first since 2005, due out April 11:
"Some of my most meaningful opportunities that I've had as a producer come from me raising my hand, rather than sitting at home hoping that someone will call me. I wrote to Bonnie's manager and just said, 'Here's who I am, I'm here, and if I could ever be of any use, I'd love to have a conversation.' She wrote back really quickly and said that my name had come up a number of times from Bonnie, and that we should get on the phone together. Bonnie wasn't thinking at that moment about resurfacing, but we started a conversation that went on for some three hours. By the end of that one phone call, we had agreed to meet at my basement studio a month later. My biggest job with her was to encourage her to re-enter and re-engage with her musical identity."
On the late soul singer Solomon Burke's comeback album from 2002, Don't Give Up on Me:
"I was on the short list of people considered to produce the record. As I understand it, I was the least likely candidate to get the job. But because I didn't think I really had a shot at it, I spoke my mind in a conversation with the label's A&R man, Andy Kaulkin. That conversation led to others, and then the next thing I know I'm sitting at breakfast with Solomon Burke and I had the job. Solomon wasn't terribly easy to direct. But I know that he respected me. He was invested in the process, even when he was confused at times about what I was asking him to do. When it came down to the tape rolling and his singing the song, he put himself out on the wire every take. Even when he was suspicious of the process, he still owned his part of it. And that's all I could ask for."
On producing a group's album (such as Carolina Chocolate Drops' Genuine Negro Jig, from 2010), rather than a single artist's:
"When you work with a band that exists, and has its own relationship outside of me, you're stepping into somebody's marriage. At a certain point, something that's happening might not have anything to do with me whatsoever. I can offer encouragement or I can step outside of the room. It's a different dynamic going on. It's good to be reminded as a producer that you're not driving the boat all the time. Sometimes you're doing maintenance at the other end, but there's a certain part of that boat that can not be driven by you. It's arrogant to think you're going to control the entire process."
On producing his own projects, as opposed to working other artists' records:
"It's becoming easier all the time to produce myself, experience being the teacher that it is. But, also, the more I produce other artists, the less that any single album of mine speaks to the entirety of my artistry. Before I was producing other artists, I would make a record and there would be a certain anxiety of 'Hey, until two years from now, when the next one comes out, this has to stand for everything I have to offer as an artist.' Which is a deadly trap to fall into anyway, but sometimes you don't know any better. As I started to work with other artists, each of those projects I took on had only to speak for itself. It didn't have to represent all that I'm capable of doing. My persona is not the concern. And so what I learn doing that, I'm able to bring back into the room when I'm producing my own albums. That's wildly liberating when you're making a record for yourself."
On the hope of making an album with Leonard Cohen:
"I'd like to work with him, and I've certainly done what I could to let him know about that. But I think at this point he does what he does, and he hears it very completely for himself. I've always been an admirer of his work. I love artists who survive and continue. I don't believe in the idea that anything you do of substance has to happen when you're young. I don't care what the industry suggests, as far as demographics. I care about experience and what it does to artists, and what they have to offer from that vantage point. And I think Leonard Cohen is a great example.
Joe Henry plays Hugh's Room in Toronto, Jan. 30 (416-531-6604).
Brad Wheeler