Sometimes I cry at concerts. Tears just start streaming down my face. It happened again tonight at the Ron Sexsmith concert. Any reason I give for the tears sounds hokey: the music has a direct connection to my heart; a singer’s voice vibrates in some part of my soul; some kind of overwhelmingly beautiful truth is present in the music, which I physically react to… The truth is I don’t know why the tears start piling up. It’s usually a combination of things, a layering of conditions – from my state of mind to the venue to the order of songs - that makes me vulnerable. Other concerts I’ve lost it at: Richard Thompson, Jeff Tweedy solo, Wilco, Bill Frisell, Lucinda Williams, Daniel Lanois. I’m sure there are more I’m not thinking of.

Back to Ron’s show tonight:, it was without a doubt the best concert of his that I’ve been to. I love his new album, Retriever. What? You’ve never heard of him? That’s okay. If you trust me at all, just go out and buy Retriever or Whereabouts. Preferably both. I dare you not to fall in love with them.