Please Come Soon

In the moments leading up to Ray’s taking of the stage, ejdl and I had engaged in a battle-royale of Ray-association. (Highlight’s included my “If he were John Cusack with a boombox, he’d be ‘Ray’ Anything, and her brilliant “If he were Hamlet with a skull in his hand, he’d be a solilo-Ray!) The three of us (ejdl, The Voice of Reason and myself) had found a table with our backs to the wall, off stage-left, and were more than happy to ignore the mediocre Cobain-inspired relic from 1992 that served as opening act, and just revel in some silliness before Ray arrived. “If he were the object of King Kong’s desire, he’d be ‘Ray’ Ray… Nah, that doesn’t work!”

Not a one of us had ever seen a picture of Ray before. “What do you think he looks like?” ejdl asked.

“I think he is tall and wiry thin, with a big, bushy beard and a lonely country demeanor,” I offered. I don’t know why I thought this. I’d really never seen a picture of him before. It’s just what his voice evoked from me – something about the mood of “All the Wild Horses”. And sure enough, as he stepped into the blue spotlight his thick hair and full beard glowed, and his thin frame lit up from within. Exactly as I had imagined. And as he opened with the wounded and jealous “Burn”, he broke my heart.

“Oh so kiss him again
just to prove to me that you can
and I will stand here
and burn in my skin”

A simple guitar, a spotlight, the voice that takes your breath away and the soul of a poet – that is Ray LaMontagne. I have never heard a crowd so hushed as when he finished that first song. I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of his shy eyes through the fixed crowd in front of me. In between songs Ray took what felt like extended breaks, often in silence, as if to let me absorb the meaning of the last. Sometimes he spoke, low and unintelligible. He is painfully shy, but that only adds to his power when he sings. While he spoke of the difficulties he has encountered in the past year, a woman catcalled out from the audience that she could make him feel better. Embarrassed, he stopped right in his tracks and raised a hand to cover his eyes. The attention was too much for him to bear. I whispered to ejdl that it’s like he’s the shy guy in class that you always suspected of being a bottomless well of emotion. If you get the chance to examine someone like that, so exposed by the spotlight, you can’t help but be rapt.

And so, I wasn’t surprised when murmurs of sing-along built up slowly in the chorus of “Trouble”.

“We'll I've been...
saved by a woman”

I wasn’t surprised to hear ejdl’s pure soprano pipe up in the chorus of “Jolene” (quite possibly the saddest song ever.)

“Jolene
I ain't about to go straight
It's too late
I found myself face down in the ditch
Booze on my hair
Blood on my lips
A picture of you, holding a picture of me
in the pocket of my blue jeans
Still don't know what love means
Still don't know what love means”

I wasn’t surprised to catch my breath at the beauty of the line “It’s as if they’re applauding the quiet love that we’ve made.”

And I wasn’t surprised to see The Voice of Reason lower her gaze into her lap, hold her breath in, and absorb the moment as if it were holy. But her silent reverence was definitely the most affecting part of the evening for me.