Wednesday, February 22, 2012

In-store: Ron Sexsmith

Ron Sexsmith

Sonic Boom Records. Thursday, April 21, 2011.

I've listened to some Ron Sexsmith in my time. "My time", in this case, ending somewhere in the middle part of the last decade when I was increasingly finding it difficult to distinguish one album from the next. Being a plainspoken singer-songwriter type can be tricky in that way. From the outset Sexsmith has been widely praised as a songsmith, successful because pretty much every one of his songs is about something, and says what it's about — an earnest straightforwardness with a clear thesis statement, like an idealized undergraduate essay. But that's never translated into anything much more than niche success, which has frequently and publicly itched at Sexsmith.

Such are the depths of his struggles with his own success-level and relevance that for his new album Long Player Late Bloomer Sexsmith put himself in the hands of über-mersh producer Bob Rock. Listening to the album gives the impression that was a very bad move, as Rock's over-busy production kinda leaves a goopy layer of commercially-ambitious schlock over some nice songs. Ron Sexsmith should never be autotuned — his voice on the album sounds plasticky, like an aging thespian after too many facelifts.1

Anyway, before heading across the street to play the album release show at Lee's Palace with the full band, Sexsmith dropped into Sonic Boom's basement for a classic in-store with a stripped-down solo acoustic set. This was about the right level of commitment for me at this stage of the game, and there was a nice crowd on hand that must have felt the same. "Wow, I didn't know anyone was coming. This is great," commented the frequently self-depreciating singer, dropping hints about past in-stores that weren't so successful.

The set lead off with "Get In Line" and "The Reason Why", the first couple songs from the new album. Those both came off well, and "No Help at All" was especially nice in its stripped-down setting. "I wanted to write something like Bill Withers would write," Sexsmith explained. Keeping that in mind might help to explain why Rock's schmaltzy arrangement actually serves the song fairly well on the album, coming off like a prime piece of AM gold. Thirty years back, songs like this would have made Sexsmith a CanCon prince, like another Terry Jacks.

The quick set finished with "Love Shines", which would also lend its title to a documentary about the recording of his album. One could get the sense that Sexsmith was drawing from his own frustrations here: "In every nowhere town / There are somewhere dreams / Patiently holding out / To grab the brass ring". As an artistic underdog story, it's really hard not to be on Sexsmith's side, and I can't begrudge him if the sort of gloss that alienates me gets him some security. But for me, the bare essence of the songs from just the man and his guitar was far more convincing than Rock's over-busy production.2 In the end, I was wholly glad I came out, even if Sexsmith's trajectory might limit me to being more of a sympathizer than a fan.

Listen to a track from this set here.



1 This album would go on to make it to the Polaris Prize shortlist, but quite honestly it deserved no such honour. One was left with the impression that the jury was either celebrating mediocrity in a stereotypically Canadian way or giving Sexsmith a sort of lifetime achievement nod.

2 In the final analysis, this album must have had some sort of positive impact for Sexsmith, as his just-announced local show (May 17, 2012) will be in the spacious digs at Queen Elizabeth Theatre.

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