Twenty years have passed since Steve Forbert left the small-town comforts of Meridian, Miss., for the street-life uncertainties of New York City. Barely out of his teens, and without knowing a soul in the city, the skinny youngster took his lazy drawl and boyish innocence in search of an unlikely dream: success.

“I’d been in bands,” Forbert recalls, “and it was pretty easy to tell that nothing was going to happen if we stayed in Mississippi. I would have taken a band with me when I left, but the plain truth is, it was hard to get a bunch of guys to go to a strange Northern city to play my songs and starve for an unspecified amount of time. But it was what I had to do, so I went on my own.”

Within two years, he had achieved more than he could have ever expected. He started by busking at subway entrances, but before long he was headlining at Folk City and opening shows for the Talking Heads and John Cale at CBGB’s. In the process, he became one of the few non-punk performers to gain a following in lower Manhattan in the late ’70s. Packed with heartland soul and passionate observations, his 1978 recording debut, Alive on Arrival, remains one of the freshest, most striking introductions of the era. More distinctive than Tom Petty, yet just as compelling and accessible, Forbert appeared to be in the beginning stages of a career that had the potential to rival that of the head Heartbreaker.

But as time passed, Forbert never quite attained the success many thought would be his. Like so many worthy talents, he got caught in the machinations of corporate record politics. Just as he should have been capitalizing on the momentum of a national hit, “Romeo’s Tune,” he became a victim of wrangling between his record label, Nemperor, and its corporate parent, CBS Records. He released several records over the next few years, but by 1982, he disappeared into a legal morass that cut him off from recording for several years.

A soft-spoken, guarded man, Forbert has been in Nashville for a decade now, and his woeful story is a familiar one. But 20 years after his initial bid to make it in the music business, he still refuses to give into bitterness. With a resilience and perseverance that most artists would envy, Forbert has remained singularly devoted to his craft. Just this year, he released Rocking Horse Head, a most unexpected and unusual document in a career marked by powerful musical statements.

Forbert’s new collection is striking in that it sounds utterly different from anything he’s recorded before. In the past, he kept his rhythms four-square and simple, building tunes around an aggressive acoustic guitar or the streamlined, resonant twang of an electric six-string. He occasionally delved into a bluesy sound or punched up tracks with a horn section, but none of his previous outings wandered into the moody atmosphere and diffuse rhythms of Rocking Horse Head. Forbert has taken a gamble with his latest record, but it’s a powerfully effective one, and his efforts reflect the mature introspection of his recent lyrics.

Mission of the Crossroad Palms, which preceded Rocking Horse Head, “was a fairly tidy record,” Forbert notes. “The thing to do this time was to be looser.” Encouraged by colleague Andy McLenon, the singer-songwriter hired Nashville record producer Brad Jones, who has worked with Jill Sobule and Marshall Crenshaw. Both Jones and McLenon suggested that Forbert then hook up with several members of the roots-rock band Wilco—guitarist Jay Bennett, string musician Max Johnston, and drummer Ken Coomer.

Along with Jones on bass, the musicians turned out to be especially sensitive to Forbert’s new tunes. On record, they can be heard wrapping his musings in a warm, elegiac setting. They occasionally add a simmering funkiness, as on the voodoo textures of “Shaky Ground,” but the concentration is on a sweet, wistful beauty that never grows predictable or overly saccharine. Forbert credits Jones for the overall sound and singles out Coomer and Bennett for adding to the unusual flavor of the tunes.

Perhaps his new sound shouldn’t be surprising: In spite of his consistent recorded efforts, Forbert has always been a flexible musician, readily adapting his music to fit the current situation. In the past, he’s gone on solo tours and then followed up with an extended run with a rock band. This kind of flexibility “gives me a certain freedom,” he explains. “I sometimes think about how Cyndi Lauper or Pat Benatar [two other artists whose careers took off about the same time as his] can’t just go out and play for people. They have to have a band, and probably a road manager and a light guy, and next thing you know it takes 12 people for them to do a show. I’ve been able to get around that, and, truthfully, it’s how I’ve been able to keep going. I like the freedom of playing solo and not being tied into anything. Of course, it’s good to be able to make a lot of racket sometimes too.”

When he performs at 3rd & Lindsley on Oct. 20, Forbert will introduce his new touring band. “It will be kind of a public dress rehearsal,” he says of the show, which will feature Peter Hyrka on various string instruments, Kenny Cox on drums, and Paul Fulbright on bass.

No matter who he’s touring or recording with, Forbert figures that his music will always fall under the heading of folk-rock. “That’s what it’s about for me.... It was the sound of the Byrds and folk-rock, those guitars and those lyrics, that really changed things for me. After you’ve heard Dylan do ‘That’s Alright Ma, I’m Only Bleeding,’ where do you go? To this day, that song is very observant, very wide-ranging. And that was 1965. That’s the challenge, to come up with something, to say something. I like the fact that it’s up to me to come up with whatever I want to do. You could say...some of the music has become more corporate, but I’m in a style where the challenge is on me.”

As always, Forbert has something to say on Rocking Horse Head, whether it’s looking at the mysteries of life through the eyes of an infant (“Big New World”), exploring his reaction to a psychic’s pronouncements (“My Time Ain’t Long”), or finding the strength in himself to get through tough times (“Don’t Stop”). Only this time, Forbert thinks his new sound might help get his message beyond the loyal cult of fans he’s developed. “I think this record has its finger on a good pulse,” he says. “I’m usually pretty self-critical, but I think this record is everything I could decipher right now. I feel more strongly about that than ever. I’m not usually so adamant about it, but I’d like to see this one do something. I’d like for something more to come back with this one.”