Dave Simpson 

Ron Sexsmith

Boardwalk, Sheffield ***
  
  

Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith Photograph: Public domain

Ron Sexsmith must feel as if he's living a dual life. He's praised to the skies by critics, by Elvis Costello and Elton John, but has been dumped by his main record label. His songs have been covered by Rod Stewart and opera singer Anne Sophie Von Otter, but Madison Square Garden remains a distant dream. Hence, the 30-something Canadian singer-songwriter finds himself in the humble Sheffield Boardwalk, though at least he has attracted a crowd. "It's so nice to be back," he tells the worshippers. "We didn't know if there'd be anybody here." Then Sexsmith and cohorts launch into This Song and Just My Heart Talkin', two of the stronger cuts from his new (independent) Blue Boy album, which reveal what the fuss is all about. These are songs the Stones would kill for, though Sexsmith would presumably prefer it if they paid.

Whatever your choice of music, it's hard not to warm to one of pop's craftsmen. His painstaking, often acoustic, songwriting renders him a master of a dying art - pop's equivalent of a blacksmith. But his tunes are heartfelt, only occasionally musty, and one in every four sounds like it could be a standard.

Clad in black, Sexsmith, with his curly mop and awkward stance, looks like a slightly camp Billy Bunter. But he croons poignantly and presses the funny-button in between. He explains his struggles with the technicalities of his new guitar pedal and, when he switches to a tiny mandolin, it seems like another joke, though really it is a regular part of Sexsmith's quaint, nostalgic world. More usually, his themes are timeless and personal, reflecting his struggles with love, life and the music industry. As Sexsmith draws gasps for a breath-taking Riverbed (all piano and barber-shop harmonies, and where sleep seems to be is a metaphor for suicide) the bitter-sweet man suddenly seems like a successor to Roy Orbison.

Hopefully Rod et al will carry on covering - anything to keep him from ending it all, or, God forbid, a regular job and a sensible haircut.

• Ron Sexsmith plays the Fleece & Firkin, Bristol (0117-945 0996), tonight.

Boardwalk

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*