Stop The Tiny Voices

An Open Letter to Joe Henry:

Mr. Henry:
A few years ago I received a mix CD that contained a wonderful gem of a song that compelled me to wonder why no one would give that fucking bug a new song to sing ("Bob and Ray"). Shortly thereafter I started a strange relationship with your music and have become, much like the friend who provided me with my "in" to your music, a musical missionary spreading the Gospel According to Joe.

You provided us with such a challenging few years. The quadrology of "Trampoline", "Fuse", "Scar" and "Tiny Voices" illustrates a most curious mutation in your music. You swang through pop, jazz, country, ballads, darkness and humor. It culminated in "Tiny Voices" which, even after two years of solid listening, is in solid rotation and touted by such luminaries as myself as one of the best albums of the new millennium.

My wife had joined me in loving your music. She, in fact, has admitted to a little crush on you. I suspect it's those dark, brooding songs that did her in.

However, Joe, you've gone away. Your website lists no live dates since 2004. You've not addressed a tearful nation since January. As best I can tell, you've spent some time with Aimee Mann and maybe eaten a little stir-fry.

The last few days, I've been listening to quite a bit of your music again. And enjoying it more than ever. Yet, I feel like someone who seeks his guru only to find the mountaintop empty.

I don't mean to rush you, or even pressure you to produce. However, a word of encouragement. Perhaps just a nod of acknowledgement to us fans. Maybe a nice streusel in the mail. Something. Anything. Just a little news would be nice.

However, Mr. Henry, since we've not heard anything from you I've decided to take drastic actions. I have decided, by using my
Radio Science Fiction Twin, to convert as many people to your music. I've loaded it with 15 great Joe Henry songs from "Curt Flood" to "Flower Girl".

Not drastic, you say? No, it's not. But they will be writing letters to your management asking, "What's Joe doing? When's he going to come back and please us fans?"

And once your management gets a whiff of the palpable anticipation of your adoring fans, then they will see opportunity. With opportunity comes pressure and with pressure comes a new album.

So, Mr. Henry, the way I figure it, you have two choices.

1. Give us a hint of what comes next. A cryptic message on your website. A random set at a dingy club. Anything. We will be happy, know that you're out there waiting for us and we'll descend back in the shadows. Or,

2. The aforementioned pestering.

The choice is yours, Mr. Henry. We don't ask much. And I guarantee, with the songs I've chosen, the conversions will be swift and easy.

So what is it? A fan army? Or a quick scribble on your site?

Sincerely,

Gary O'Brien

P.S. Hiring actors to portray you does not count and will not satisfy our lust for music.