Last night in Toronto at the Tranzac, Corin Raymond celebrated the tenth anniversary of the release of his first CD, Record Lonesome Night, with an ensemble of musicians. Playing to each other’s strengths, a decade later the material is fresh, still “riding west on Dundas”.
It was very personal. For someone who has never met nor heard Corin perform, the fine line between narcissism and being authentic may have been a bit blurred. Corin’s stories about the creation of his first album could have struck one as self-gratification, vain and bordering on narcissism, but everyone who knows him will agree that Corin is anything but a narcissist.
If authenticity means to be genuine, then in my opinion, Corin’s photo should be in the dictionary beside the term.
Last evening’s performance was a tribute by the artist to all those who had carried him. A very personal, intimate window into the soul of the musician, revealed a gracious and grateful artist. With his ego parked firmly at the door, he endeavored to honour all those who had supported him artistically, emotionally and financially.
Why my interest in Corin Raymond? His candour pierces with surgical precision, entertaining with what he does best - telling a story.
At age sixty-five, I’ve never been a groupie, never been ”on the road,” and can’t play a musical instrument, although my autoharp accompanied me on my re-location to Dundas, Ontario last summer.
I first met Corin in Calgary in 2010, when he headlined my son Matt Masters' Spaghetti Western indie music festival. My interest lies in his ability to tell his story, and tell it on a number of levels. He peels back the skin and exposes the wound. Sometimes we only see the scar.
I attended my high school reunion last September, and a dear friend gave me a clipping of an article I wrote, describing my first Rolling Stones concert at Maple Leaf Gardens.
Written in 1965 for the UK’s FAB magazine, the short-lived publication was circulated throughout the British Commonwealth. I was paid approximately $100.00. It was an affirmation, however modest, that I could be a writer. Almost fifty years later, with the publication of my book, Naked Under My Coat – Writing Under the Influence of Parkinson’s, I am telling my stories.
Well done Corin! Congratulations to Corin's band the Sundowners, the Undesirables, and the donations of Canadian Tire money, over $8,000 as of last night.
You make collaboration an art form, musician to musician, note to note and lyric to lyric. As Townes Van Zant so eloquently sings: “...and so the story goes.”