thank you, ray

Through a few lucky coincidences, I got to see Ray Lamontagne perform last night at the Tabernacle here in Atlanta.

I like this guy. (The passionate screams of "I love you, Ray!" coming from many women in the crowd last night confirmed that I am in good company.)

I sat up and took notice of Ray when I first heard the single "Trouble" on the radio in 2004. Later, attempting to stalk him online, I read a little about his start in the music industry. I read that he had been working a terrible job at a shoe factory when he heard a Stephen Stills song on the radio ("Treetop Flyer"). The experience moved him so deeply that shortly after, he decided to leave the shoe factory and pursue making music full time.

Stories like that always kill me. Stories of someone having a soul-changing experience with art and then deciding to quit the [ paint factory / shoe factory / soul-deadening corporate job ] to explore their own art. Such romantic stories!

Last night was a real treat. Somehow, Ray's voice is even more raspy in real life than it is on his recordings. He spoke very little, but he and his band delivered a tight show with tons of heart. The Tabernacle, an enormous, loud room filled with an energetic, beery crowd, was brought to a reverent hush as he played some of his quiet numbers.

From my seat in the balcony, I got to hear some of his lyrics as if for the first time. That was a real treat. I love this verse from his song "Empty" for the simplicity and richness of the images it presents:

Lay your blouse across the chair
Let fall the flowers from your hair
And kiss me with that country mouth so plain

Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves
To me it sounds like they're applauding us
The quiet love we've made

I went home feeling newly grateful for artists with the courage to change their lives in honor of their gift. Thank you, Ray, for making music.