I first saw Ray LaMontagne live in 2005. Around a year had passed after the release of his breakthrough debut album Trouble, and the Gaelic Club was packed to the rafters with people keen to hear this American troubadour in person. His set was understated, something I expected knowing how painfully shy he was. But beautiful, so beautiful that I didn’t miss the banter musicians ordinarily deliver because I felt he spoke to us through his music.
It took him 14 years to make the return journey to us. He’s released so many albums since then. The venues have been upgraded. The State Theatre is a much more refined joint. If he had a support act back then I can’t remember them, but I have a feeling Tori Forsyth will be etched into my mind. She has one of those voices that just grabs you and doesn’t let go. I wasn’t familiar with her material but I was instantly captivated, so glad I’d followed a friend’s advice and arrived early enough for her performance. She’s a performer not too dissimilar to Ray really, with a voice wise beyond her years, an old soul and style to her Americana tunes that makes them accessible on the first listen. The obvious appreciation she had for our beautiful theatre earned her a few brownie points too.
Ray wasn’t alone with his acoustic guitar this time. Wilco’s bassist John Stirratt joined him, bringing another dimension to the music. Like a modern-day Simon and Garfunkel they gently strummed and harmonised, creating some of the most beautiful folk music you’re likely to hear. I must admit, I lost touch with Ray’s new recordings somewhere along the way, but it was a real treat to hear so many new songs with such a respectful crowd. However, the songs from Trouble were real highlights for me. I even had to brush away a tear during “Burn.” He’s probably lost count of the number of times he’s sung it since 2004, but all the pain that fuelled its creation still felt so raw. And the title track, the jubilant chorus, was so stirring.
Someone who was unfamiliar with Ray might have felt disappointed by his quiet demeanour. He managed little more than a mumbled “Thank you Sydney” between songs. But knowing how shy he is, I can forgive a lack of showmanship. I was even surprised when returned to the stage for a lengthy encore. Even if performing is a little difficult for him, clearly he wanted to show us how much he appreciated our support.
Seeing Ray live wasn’t like your typical concert experience. It was without witty banter, without theatrics we were left to focus on arguably what matters most: the music. And it was flawless.