On opening the album sleeve of Exit Strategy for the Soul, the listener is invited to peruse a set of dusk-tinged photographs framing a wasted Ron Sexsmith in a sparsely decorated studio. The withdrawn, exhausted portraiture invokes certain feelings of world-weariness, feelings of a doubt that’s lead to a loss of hope. Whilst this is not entirely representative of the emotional content of the music that lies within, it is a fair representation of the attitude Sexsmith has cultivated towards the world which he resides within.
His recorded output has often focussed on his ever-present richly painted themes of communicating love, living loneliness and abstained from any personal exploration and of the actions of greater society. There’s still the eternal search for answers to our most personal shortcomings and feelings, but now amongst this there is an acknowledgement of something not quite right in our collective attitude towards the world. From the hope for the future generosity of Thoughts and Prayers to the “what are we doing to our world?” questions of One Last Round, Sexsmith has transferred his equal parts melancholy and optimism from discussion of inter-personal relationships to the relationship between his maturing life and the damaged world around.
With the addition of a withering horn section that invokes feelings of Motown or of Soul-Ballad-Stax (somehow you can hear Otis Redding crooning to the beaten-down slow-blues of Hard Times ) or even East-Coast soft-rock, a greater universalism is appended to the still doggedly personal music he specialises in. These flourishes provide the easy-route by which to penetrate an intensely singular world-view. There’s regret and there’s concern. There’s constant movement from darkness into light, hope that despite what is stored within the mind there is a brighter tomorrow.
Sexsmith has never been one to repress or disallow optimism from lightening even the most melancholic of personal tribulations, and this is still clear on Exit Strategy. You can’t leave the album without being moved to hope, swung into the vibrancy of his faith after bearing witness to Brighter Still and Music To My Ears. Despite the slightly heavy-handed approach to dealing with the vagaries of human’s place in the world (yes, One Last Round almost boarders on discussing environmental conservation), his mastery of exploring those deeply private questions we ignore about ourselves; the reasons we find trouble in love, the reasons we choose not to communicate the feelings we hold so precious, is still dealt with incredibly convincingly.
The increased sonic palette, which includes Brian Wilson-esque, one-man vocal harmonies, jazzy keyboard licks and soothingly spare female backing vocals all leave a subtle but indelible impression. It’s a testament to how attainable his deeply personal examinations can be to the unprepared listener that these musical variations and textural shades are so easily incorporated into his music without sacrificing anything.
It’s been a long time since Ron Sexsmith was the wide-eyed boy with shaggy hair and chubby features that discussed love as almost solely an avalanche of trouble we can only attempt to plow through. But he still hasn’t lost the optimism, the faith and the hope that make his music intrinsically beautiful. He will always find it difficult to create an album that moves the masses, but he captures this conundrum perfectly as he sings almost downheartedly, “Of all the virtues known to man, Patience is one I understand”.
And patience is the thing that Sexsmith most deserves. He works extraordinarily hard to lay his emotions exposed for our investigation and with the addition of those themes less personal, our access point as affected listeners becomes ever so more within reach.
