Ron Sexsmith’s 2006 album Time Being seems to get lost in the shuffle. It’s the one album of his nine studio releases that, for me, doesn’t have a distinct identity.
All the rest have some distinguishing factor, whether it’s the production values (or lack thereof), choice of instrumentation, chronological placement in his discography, cover photo, you name it. You name an album and I’ll say, “yeah, that’s the one with…”
But Time Being is generic in all of the ways the rest are distinct.
The nice thing about theme weekends is that it gives me a chance to revisit the albums of a favorite artist in chronological order, enjoying the evolution. Often an album I’d kind of lost track of over time will reemerge as a favorite.
That has been the case with Retriever, an understated Ron Sexsmith album that followed the more showy Blue Boy and Cobblestone Runway.
I lose this album in a blur of the other material Sexsmith released in later years because it doesn’t have as overt an identity as its predecessors.
2004 saw the release of Ron Sexsmith’s seventh studio album, Retriever. This record wasn’t as showily produced as its predecessor, but did maintain the overall polish. Sexsmith was now consistently putting out albums that not only contained great songs but sounded great as well.
I realize that Ron Sexsmith Weekends aren’t exactly setting the world on fire. My meager audience would probably prefer any number of things to these posts. But I have to say, revisiting each of Sexsmith’s albums as I prepare my blog entries, he has grown even more in my estimation.
I featured ‘These Days’ yesterday to ease into the more involved production of Cobblestone Runway. Today’s song shows the extent to which Sexsmith fiddled around in the studio on this record.
‘Dragonfly On Bay Street’ features a disco backing track and synthesized robotic sound effects… it’s the closest Sexsmith will probably ever come to the dance floor. But this tale of a man lost in life who draws momentary inspiration from an insect trapped in the city still feels like a Sexsmith song, just in fancier clothing.
In 2002, one year after Blue Boy, Ron Sexsmith released Cobblestone Runway, a disc that marked his most significant leap forward in production values, not to mention confidence.
It’s hard to imagine the Ron Sexsmith of his first few albums recording a duet with Coldplay’s Chris Martin, as he does here on ‘Gold in Them Hills.’
And this is the first album for which I could readily find music videos of the songs. Sexsmith will never be the sort of artist who shows up in the VH1 Top 20 Video Countdown, but the fact that he strapped on a guitar and played for the cameras in interesting in itself.
Meet Me In Montauk 