Ron Sexsmith

Ron Sexsmith's music has acquired an earthy swagger since he discovered electric guitars last year. Produced by the blues-rock father figure Steve Earle, the recent Blue Boy album saw the wispy Canadian forsaking his slight, folk-tinged balladry in favour of an uptempo indie/nu-country template.

You get the feeling that the change of direction more honestly reflects Sexsmith's state of mind. In concert he is dry, self-deprecating, refreshingly bereft of affectation. For a card-carrying tortured acoustic hero, these are cardinal transgressions. If he's not careful, people are going to stop mentioning him in the same breath as David Gray.

The opener, I Sure Could Use Your Love Right Now, a minor-key paean to love and loss, confirmed Sexsmith's progression as a lyricist.

Sexsmith belatedly went acoustic on the smoochy Thirsty Love, the smoky vocals half obscured by the sunny harmonies emanating from his honky-tonk backing band. A highlight of Blue Boy, the track wears its Flying Burrito Brothers/Box Tops influences lightly, underscoring Sexsmith's determination to explore.

Will his fan base keep faith? It may be close-run. Amid the cheers and whoops as the curtain fell, some diehards seemed glum and underwhelmed. They expected a strumming martyr but got a good-time bar band and a set crammed with edgy country-blues riffs. The rest of us should rejoice. After five albums and torrents of stilted anguish, Sexsmith has emerged from a cocoon and spread his wings.