Lovely, Just Lovely

Okay, picture this.

I'm sitting looking up, ceiling 50ft above my head. This ceiling is pock-marked with halogen lights, many of which are blown out and blackened amongst 1950s glass lamps. However, there are hot spots of light which distract me from the brokenness. Lightness and little slices of colour, and looking along there's a scaff lattice bearing big lights, colours and industry. A flash of metal on stage bouncing the beam of a spot onto that ceiling; yes, he's the one, the man playing steel slide on his knee, it's coming from him. Hats, beards, yes, there's a look going on and they echo approval of each other this way.

From the roof hang wires, the rig making patterns in various places. A big, black curtain, or is it red, or blue? Oh, that'll be the lights again. This velvet curtain drops back behind Ray's band. He's a slender, be-hatted man in moleskin trousers and a crisp, white shirt and acoustic guitar. He is immediately wonderful as he takes his position to the side of the stage and, for once, we are able to see what all the musicians do - including drummer - while he seeks no preferential treatment. In fact, it is because he, in his competence, steps aside to honour each musician that the evening is so refreshing. Here, the protagonist stands back not needing to look for glory, requiring that those others take their places too. He rasps and sweats and sings about being, and needing, shelter, and talks about songwriters who inspired him to write at all. It was those who wrote with beautiful simplicity. He honours them too, and delights in every person in his band. Because he does, we do too.

When the Secret Sisters come along in their tea dresses and begin singing with Ray I have to coach myself to be grown up and not sob. He - a man renowned for few words - tries to explain that he wrote these songs and they didn't sound like much but when the Sisters sang along, "it was lovely, just lovely."

Right about now I feel as though I've been in a mixture of True Grit meets Prairie Home Companion, am wondering when I can move to Tennessee and can't imagine how I got to be 20ft away from Ray LaMontagne in his paradox model of passion and humility.

You throw your all into it, and let go all at once.

Unusually, there is a standing ovation for this man who takes no glory to his own heart.

I love being close up to humble people who have obviously fought to be where they are against the odds, don't take it for granted and treasure all the others around them who shine so you can too.

For all those who have a beautiful, humble simplicity, this one's for you.

"Lovely, just lovely."


{Today's Soundtrack: Secret Sisters doing Patsy Klein covers}