Asking the question as to whether The Beatles’ album Revolver is better than Abbey Road, R.E.M.’s Reckoning tops Automatic for the People, or Joni Mitchell’s Blue beats Hejira, will get a thousand answers. Arguments abound about an artist‘s best work. It is often difficult to have a conversation just about the work itself, because more often than not, time, place, memory and circumstance play such a substantial part in shaping our opinions, whether articulated or not and can be as determinative as anything else when deciding one’s best.
And so it was that I listened to Scar, my favourite album by consummate producer and tasty songwriter, Joe Henry. Often, but not always ranked among his top albums, it’s the one I return to time and again – for its musical and songwriting innovation, but also its place in my life and my memories from when it was released. At the time, I listened to it everywhere; at home, in the car, at the drive-in, on a walk, in quiet seclusion, in contemplative waiting and waking moments and when I hear it again, it evokes a time and place that elevates it in my estimation.
Joe Henry’s shift on ‘Scar’
If any contemporary artist ever hinted at the prospect of a shift towards jazz, only to abandon it in large measure, it was Joe Henry on Scar. Perhaps it’s an album you already know and love or one day, you’ll listen to it, love it or possibly think I’m crazy.
It’s not an easy album at first, but over time, yields endless musical rewards. Scar features a great band: drummer Brian Blade, pianist Brad Mehldau, guitarist Marc Ribot and on alto sax on a couple of tracks, Ornette Coleman, among the players. On some compositions, Henry tentatively approaches jazz stylings then retreats from them, relying on song craft to hold the attention for those who find the jazz “voice” too disconcerting.
Today’s song, Rough and Tumble, with its major to minor chords and sound, is only a gentle, undulating lean towards jazz. Guitar one, I assume Henry, “rubs” more than strums the rhythm, while guitar two, definitely Ribot, twists electric lines and convention. Blade shuffles and rolls on his kit, as David Piltch’s bass stabs and winds.
The melody is more conventional Henry than some of the darker laments on the album, as he sings of his relationship treatment as rough and tumble, moving between dramatic verse and easy chorus. “I had a dream of you / And I’ll tell you when I can / Your face was a brilliant mask / – it came off in my hand.” Take a listen to a great track and have a good Sunday.
Listen to Rough and Tumble on Spotify here.
And on Apple Music here.
I started a music WhatsApp group in 2023. I send one song a week on a Friday, with links to both Apple and Spotify, and an accompanying narrative/capsule piece, all of which is also published here on a Sunday. If you want to engage about a song, get a playlist or just get in touch, email me on markgrosin@gmail.com.
