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Ron Sexsmith

Played at Richards on Richards
Sept.28/02

Ralph

   

Main Stage - Word On the Street
Sept.29/02

fimanda flikman
OP Contributor

Jazz. Okay, before you run away let me say
that ordinarily I would be running right
along with you, but Ralph’s Sept. 29th per-
formance had me snapping my fingers and
reaching for my beret with the rest of the
crowd at Vancouver's Word on the Street
festival in Library Square. Pretentious?
Obnoxious? Self-indulgent? Sure. I did
mention it was a jazz show right? You can

 

fimanda Aikman
OP Contributor

I am in love with Ron Sexsmith. Actually I am in
love with any guy who has Canadian citizenship,
messy hair and an acoustic guitar, but I am espe-
cially in love with Ron Sexsmith. So when the
Toronto troubadour rolled into Vancouver on
September 28th to play one of Richards on
Richards hateful “early shows”, I was understand-
ably pumped. I arrived at 7p.m. to score a stage-
friendly seat, ready and willing to have my heart
broken by Sexsmith. Unfortunately my heart is still
beating. The show was good, that’s pretty much
guaranteed, given the talent and experience of Ron
and his posse, but it seemed to be lacking in inten-
sity this time around. Ordinarily, Sexsmith’s well-
crafted, heart wrenching songs and earnest per-
formances manage to bring a tear to my eye and an
extra beer or two to my tab, but this time my mas-
cara and equilibrium managed to stay suspiciously
intact.

Sexsmith is currently touring in support of his
new album, Cobblestone Runway, which was
released on Sept. 24th. I haven't had sufficient time
to fully absorb the material as of yet, but I have to
admit that after a few listens I find some of the
lyrics (particularly on the Matthew Shepherd trib-

ute God Loves Everyone) to be embarrassingly trite
and a little too much from the “I had a cat, who
wore a hat” school of rhyme. To his credit,
Sexsmith managed to inject a considerable amount
of humanity into the live version on Saturday
night, but it still felt a bit off. Other Cobblestone
Runway songs such as the disco tinged “Dragonfly
on Bay Street” are somewhat of a departure from
Sexsmith’s earlier work, and the questionable inclu-
sion of synthesizer in certain songs had me won-
dering if anyone had checked the water supply in
Ontario lately.

Of course there is no such thing as a bad Ron
Sexsmith show, as attested to by the fact that the
rest of the world temporarily ceased to exist while
he played the beautiful “Heart With No
Companion,” “Lebanon Tennessee,” and Seem to
Recall. The show ended with an inspired version of
Secret Heart complete with a tribute to George
Harrison’s “Something in the Way”. By that point I
was ready to forgive any real or perceived misgiv-
ings I had experienced earlier in the show. Boyish
grin and dreamy eyes aside, its Sexsmith’s masterful
song-writing and soul-quenching voice that always
keeps me coming back for more.

October 9, 2002

blame it on the grey skies, the strong coffee
or the exhilaration of free entertainment,
but the results were far less repellent than
even I had anticipated. Yes, they referenced
Jack Kerouac, yes they wore turtlenecks,
and yes there were painfully long sax solos,
but hey, like I said, it was free.

One advantage of attending a jazz show, I
discovered, was the unique opportunity to
sound like an idiot and not be called on it.
Where else but at a jazz show can you say “If
youre hip to it man, lay it on me, cuz I
belong to the beat generation, dig?” without
the threat of bodily harm? It would be accu-
rate to say that even this novelty factor
began to lose its appeal after about the
fourth song, but considering that this was
three and a half songs later than I had
expected, I would have to qualify the event
as a success. During the fifth song, as the
five white guys from Vancouver that are
Ralph began to chant “The bird is the
word” in their requisite Charlie Parker
anthem, I had to finally excuse myself for a
cigarette and emergency debriefing. I tried,
I really did, but apparently the jazz just isn’t
in me. I guess this means I am resigned to a
life here in dullsville with the other squares,
but those of you cats who are hip to that
sort of thing go check out Ralph, dig?

 

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