Did anybody know a "shy kid" in high school? You know, they type that just seemed to be uncertain in his own process of growing up, who probably had a lot of intelligent things to say but was just too afraid to speak up, because somebody would make fun of him. Maybe you picked on kids like him. Or maybe you were the girl that this kid secretly liked, but he tried to hide it by always looking away when you entered a room, innocently assuming you wouldn't notice his stolen glances and forlorn wishing that he could just gather up the courage to say the first word to you. Or maybe you were that kid. Maybe you knew that there was more to you than what people saw, that on the inside, you had a world of thoughts and stories and unique perspectives on things, if only people would look past your out-of-synch-with-the-world fashion sense and stuttering speech and take you seriously.

I think Ron Sexsmith must have been one of those kids. It's just a feeling that I get when I listen to his latest album, Retriever. The guy just has this sort of gentle charm, and a smooth vocal presence that's difficult to describe - maybe it would have fit in well with some of the singers from the 70's, and yet it doesn't feel like adult contemporary schmaltz, but then again, it goes down pretty smooth and he can be incredibly lovey-dovey at times. Listening to this collection of simple pop/rock songs is like finding a secret hangout where singers like John Mayer, Jack Johnson and Bebo Norman all hang out with a crowd of their closest friends, completely devoid of any need to show off or ham it up to impress a crowd. Ron has crafted one of those albums that somehow manages to be alarmingly simple in its approach, and yet incredibly unpretentious and enchanting. How do some singer/songwriters do that while others can attempt the same thing and have it come out sounding entirely generic?

I can't speak to Ron's growth from previous albums here, as this is my first exposure to the guy, but I can definitely say that Retriever sounds like a shy kid finally finding his voice and learning to be proud of his ability to say something meaningful. The guy doesn't hit you over the head with flowery prose or flashy guitar playing or anything, though he does turn out some insightful phrases and he's definitely got a gift for melody. In fact, the melodic nature of these songs and the way his voice melts around them sets him apart from his era - I want to say that it's a throwback to the 70's, but apart from one song in particular, I'm not seeing disco balls and bell-bottoms. I'm just seeing lazy summer afternoons, driving around with nowhere in particular to go with a loved one by your side. Simpler times, I guess. That's a good way to describe the feel of the music here. While it's not an album solely comprised of love songs, I would say that love and specifically commitment are large parts of the equation here - Ron seems to pit the real against the fake and the faithful against the traitorous as he tries to tough it out and stick with the people he loves and the beliefs he holds dear. Like I said earlier, it's quite charming.

If there's one thing that's not as charming about this record, it's the way that it got mixed. Not that I expect glossy modern pop production, or rocking guitar solos, or anything of that nature on a record like this, but there are a few points where the instruments are so unassuming that they seem to get mushed together, leaving a thin, skeletal framework on which to build a pop song. This works just fine on some of Ron's ballads, where a piano or acoustic guitar seems to be the focus, but on a few of the more up-tempo songs, the album seems to lack a little bit of "oomph" at times. In some ways, this actually contributes to the feeling that this album was made long before 2004, even though it's brand spankin' new. And the "vintage" feel isn't an entirely bad thing, either. It just takes some getting used to. The record might take a little while to truly get off the ground (the album's last two thirds jumped out at me long before any of the first few songs did), but once it gets off and running, this Retriever is simply golden.

I'll proceed with a word of caution here, though - This is melancholy, sentimental music. Hardened cynics need not apply. Is that understood? Alright, now, let's get on with the review.

Hard Bargain
Each time I'm heading for nowhere
Doomed and determined to go there
It seems I never get far...
The album starts off with a warm, comfortable midterm tune, gently brushed with the low tones of subdued electric guitars. (I can tell I'm gonna use the word "subdued" a lot in this review... please bear with me.) This sets the pace nicely for what was my first glimpse of Ron's personality - one part of him seems to be a hopeless romantic, and one part of him seems to be a mopey guy who struggles a bit with self-esteem. Here, he wraps the two up into a song that is essentially a roundabout compliment to a lover - his slightly weary tone indicates a sort of resignation to her more cheerful disposition. He almost sounds like he's casting blame on her, because she won't let him get away with feeling sorry for himself. "You drive a hard bargain", he concedes. "How's a guy supposed to fail with someone like you around?" The answer, of course, is happy, at ease, grateful. She won't stand to let him kick his own butt. Guys like us need girls like that, I think.

Imaginary Friends
You can paint them a beautiful picture, but they won't understand
You can count all your friends on the fingers of one scalded hand...
It's unfortunate that the weakest moment on the record, musically speaking, arrives in its second track. Maybe it's just been a while since I heard electric guitars played without distortion or something - though I wouldn't expect that here. It's just that, for what sounds like it wants to be a more upbeat song, the guitar strumming seems especially dry and lifeless, and the drums are being played as if Ron's band is trying to avoid waking the old lady next door. It kind of sucks the life out of the chipper melody of the song. Fortunately, this doesn't indicate a weakness in the songwriting department - Ron has penned a real gem here that deserves a better arrangement. At first, you wonder why he's talking about a childhood phenomenon like imaginary friends (though if he was in fact a "shy kid", he probably had more than a few of them), but then you realize that he's actually talking about real people that have been rather lukewarm in their commitment to him. Basically he knows a lot of drifters - people who are happy to shoot the breeze with you when they're not too busy, and who don't give a rip what you're actually saying as long as there's a break in the conversation so that they can brag about their exploits. It's actually a song that I'd expect to have more of a dour melody, but Ron kind of shrugs them all off here with some careless "doo doo doo"s at the end of the song.

Not About to Lose
If I were to listen to the sound
Of that little voice, I might turn back now
But I won't be taking fear's advice
Not after all I've sacrificed...
The music gets a little busier on this song, with the drum kit taking on a stronger (though still relatively mellow) presence as strings and tinkling piano create a dreamy atmosphere. Yep, this is the sound of someone falling in love, and if you're prone to lose your lunch upon hearing such things, you may have to bypass this track. I happen to like it a bit, because he's not just talking about some giddy schoolboy crush - he's assuring somebody who has taken the leap of faith and agreed to some level of commitment (could be steady dating, engagement, marriage... who knows?) that he's not about to suddenly turn around and look elsewhere. He knows he's fallen hard for her, and he's not about to let her forget it. Those are always the kind of love songs that stay with me - the ones where some degree of commitment and longevity is being described or wished for.

Tomorrow in Her Eyes
And time shall hold no sad surprise
More hellos than goodbyes...
I don't know why, but I always get pictures of a ballroom dance in my head when I hear this song. It's a sparse piano ballad, where the lovely melody played by the piano is followed by Ron's vocals almost note for note. He picks it out very carefully, as if he's searching for the right words as he sings them, and maybe the "dance" imagery is a result of how the time signature switches from 4/4 to 3/4 at a few points - it's like switching from a regular old slow dance into a waltz and then back again. Again, there's a sense of long-term commitment as Ron sings about his affection for this girl - "I don't need a crystal ball at all", he assures us, "because I've seen tomorrow in her eyes". It's that inexplicable revelation that one gets when you look at the person you're dating and suddenly you just know they're "the one". Cheesy, isn't it? But at the same time, very powerful. The song has a very glimmery nature to it, making it easy to picture the girl's eyes welling up with tears of joy at hearing these thoughts expressed in song.

From Now On
We live in times where choice is frowned upon
Afraid to even raise our voice in song
Or speak our minds
For fear of falling on the wrong side of opinion
Where has freedom gone?
Ron shifts gears from here, very suddenly kicking into gear for perhaps the most driving song on the disc. It's as "rock" as he seems to get on this album, and the subject matter is appropriately a little heavier here as he turns his focus away from romance and toward the pressure to conform to society. The song is of course still highly catchy and singable; I don't think Ron would have it any other way. But at the same time, the melody doesn't always go where you'd expect it to, and there's this little guitar part the brings the chorus back around the verse that almost seems like it was inserted from somewhere else. The message in all of it seems to be, "Just be yourself already and stop worrying about what everyone will think". Ron's certainly having fun doing that, and he's writing meaningful songs in the process, so you could say he practices what he preaches, because his current style sure ain't a trendy or popular one.

For the Driver
I feel for the soldier in the throes of war
Sent off to settle someone else's score...
This deftly plucked acoustic song is without question one of the album's centerpieces. It was the first tune to really grab my attention the first time through, partially because the quiet musical environment brings the lyrics directly to the forefront at a time when it's critical for them to be there. A far cry from the giddy, happy nature of some of Ron's love songs, this tune is a strikingly mature look at the plight of those who are blamed for other people's pain - the ones that society seems to love the least. The driver who can't react in time and hit's a small child, the soldier who has no choice but to fight in an unjust war, the woman who lives in the fishbowl known as celebrity and who is constantly being judged by people who don't even know her. Ron's voice has this weird way of weaving around the guitar notes even though he's basically singing the same notes that are being played. Don't ask me how that works; it's though to describe. The bridge is where he brings it full circle and hits us with the clincher - "Every story has two sides, every coin two faces/I feel for the one who hides and the one who chases." It's one of the best summations of compassion and mercy that I've heard lately, because Lord knows it's tough to live with the guilt of having hurt another person. As this tune fades out, this weird, psychedelic drumming breaks in, with the song's melody being reprised in an eerie, electronic fashion before suddenly breaking into another more :rocking" tune.

Wishing Wells
Magic spells still hold no currency
Where people are lining up to sell their dignity...
It's funny how the core of this album becomes so downtrodden and, in this case, even cynical, when the songs at either end of the album provide a fairly solid candy shell. Ron is definitely at his most desperate here as this tricky little song gets underway - in terms of composition, it's well constructed, featuring a despairing chorus that leads so effortlessly back into the verse that it's hard to tell where one's supposed to end and the other begins. He ruminates on the idea of "wishing wells" and other pithy, mythical things that people make up to avoid dealing with reality. He just can't reconcile it with the horrors he's witnessing in the world around him - violence, children disappearing into thin air, things like that. And he twists the song's title around into a pun that goes down like a bitter pill - "I've half a mind to hang the next fool to wish me well." I know how it is - people always seem to have the right Hallmark card sayings to "cheer you up" when you're grieving over a personal loss or mourning on behalf of someone else's, but sometimes you just want them to shut the hell up and go do something to keep the situation from repeating itself.

Whatever It Takes
You make a wish, I'll make one too
But close your eyes, love, when you do
Or it won't be true...
From the moment that the drums kick this song off and the strings begin to work their magic, I'm just dazzled. I can't help it, maybe part of me is making up for the fact that I was born too late to actually remember the 70's. But I just love this song. Ron says that he wrote it as a tribute of sorts to Bill Withers. I wish I knew who he was talking about. But the 70's vibe comes through loud and clear, and the way Ron croons this pretty little love song makes it a definite highlight. It's tough to pinpoint what makes it so special to me, because countless songwriters have penned a love song called "Whatever It Takes". I guess this one just carries the extra weight with it from the songs that have preceded it - you can tell when he assures his lover that he'll do everything in his power "to put the lonely days behind us" that perhaps his own melancholy nature is partially to blame for those lonely days. I know what it's like to get your emotional wires crossed and not let yourself feel something so obvious and redeeming as simple love, so I guess this one hits me right between the eyes. One slight drawback is that the end of the chorus seems a tad rushed, but that's not too big of a deal since the song overall flows incredibly well, with the strings pushing it along, giving the feeling of turning the pages of time as they crescendo in between the verses and as they draw the song to a gentle close.

Dandelion Wine
Now when I sing to you, it's with a heavy heart
I took a love that was true, and tore it all apart...
Another acoustic ballad shows up here - this time the guitar picking and string playing have a melodic quality to them that makes it sound like they're jumping up and down for joy, even though it's a slower song. This one feels like it's an apology song, a request made to someone he loves dearly for another go at the relationship, and a promise that he'll do his best to make something beautiful out of something bitter. I've never had dandelion wine (nor do I even know if there is such a thing - I hate the taste of wine to begin with), but I'm assuming from the context that it's a bit of an acquired taste. In that respect, it's kind of a more literate take on the old adage "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade".

Happiness
As you come through the door
It may leap out of the darkness
It's always yelling "Surprise!"
There's almost a honky-tonk feel - or least the type of sound I would ignorantly call that - to this song as it bounces along on its 6/8 rhythm, piano happily clanging away. (The names Van Morrison and Billy Joel are coming to mind even though I've only heard one or two songs from each - somebody tell me if I'm way off base here!) It seems like Ron is continuing a theme here, following a couple through the recovery stages after a difficult time in their relationship and gently reminding himself that sometimes he analyzes things too much and fails to see legitimate reasons to celebrate when they're right in front of his nose. He's forgotten what happiness feels like, but he knows that he feels something altogether different than depression, anxiety, frustration. He's not sure what it is, but he's tired of thinking so hard about it. "Let's call it happiness", he decides. And that's pretty much that, as the song ends suddenly on a muffled guitar riff. That must've been a fun one to record.

How on Earth
When she is sad, there is so much hope inside
When she is glad, all the tears flow to her eyes
When I'm away I think of her
To a dream my mind wanders...
Man, I love sharp transitions between songs. Ron certainly knows how to use that trick to keep the momentum going on this album - his voice breaks in here, making a snippet of the chorus the first thing that you hear before the full band breaks in. This is another one of those giddy love songs that will probably make the cynics roll their eyes, but I can't help but be charmed by it. After going through difficult times and realizing that romance ain't always what it's cracked up to be, Ron finally has to acknowledge that he's arrived at something pretty darn good. And he's just a bit befuddled at how he got there. "We see it in the movies all the time", he muses, "but baby, how on Earth?" How could something like this have happened in the real world, with all of its pain and unanswered questions and stuff to get depressed over? The words of a changed man are welcome advice here, matched perfectly to Ron's playful melody as this light but upbeat tune brings us in for the home stretch.

I Know It Well
Hope springs eternal
Twenty-four hours a day
Yet still we convince ourselves
It's out of our way...
Strangely enough, the album's last song, which caps it off on an easygoing note just as it opened, passes by so quickly that it doesn't seem like the disc is supposed to end here. It's not a fast song - it's just a short one. Here, amidst chiming piano and another crescendo of strings, he reminds us that he still knows all to well what it's like to be down and depressed, offering some small amount of solace to a friend who is hurting, but at the same time taking what he's learned and refusing to let his person just wallow in it like he was doing at the beginning of the album when his ladyfriend came along and snapped him out of it. This song is one point where I think Ron oversings just a tad - I like the silken texture of his vocals for the most part, but here he does that trembling thing quite a bit (whatever you voice experts call it), and he sounds a bit off-key in places, which has the unfortunate result of making me think of dc Talk's joke reprise of "Jesus Freak". I'll forget about that for now - it's still a worthwhile song if you can get past that little snag.

And that's a wrap. Our glimpse inside the shy boy's mind has turned out to make him seem a lot more alive and intelligent than we might have previously assumed. Now we know that he wasn't spending all of his time in class just daydream and doodling about nonsense. He's learned to speak up in front of the bullies who try to force him to be what they want him to, the so-called friends who just use him for idle entertainment, and most importantly, that pretty girl who sat two rows in front of him in third period. Sometimes, you just have to send a piece of your true self out there into the world, and see what it retrieves as it makes its way back to you.

ALBUM WORTH:
Hard Bargain $1.50
Imaginary Friends $.50
Not About to Lose $1
Tomorrow in Her Eyes $1
From Now On $1.50
For the Driver $2
Wishing Wells $2
Whatever It Takes $2
Dandelion Wine $1.50
Happiness $1
How on Earth $1.50
I Know It Well $.50
TOTAL: $16

CONCLUSION: Worth its full price, mostly on the strength of Ron's songwriting, even if the mix could stand to be a little stronger. It has a good shot at cracking my year-end Top 10 list, I think.

Website: http://www.ronsexsmith.com

Great Music to Play While: Working up the courage to ask that cute girl out... or to marry you.

Recommended: Yes