Sometimes I feel extremely sorry for Ron Sexsmith. The power of his songwriting often plays second fiddle to his extremely inoffensive voice and the fact that he has a maddening tendency to couch stunning songs in arrangements that can only be described as bland.

That said, Cobblestone Runaway is populated by at least three bona fide Sexsmith classics. ‘Former Glory’s timeless sentiment is impossible to dislike and could have featured on any of Sexsmith’s previous collections. The tender ‘For A Moment’ shows the singer to be just as vulnerable and lacking in anything resembling a life-plan as the rest of us mere mortals, and is reassuring for it. ‘Gold In Them Hills’ similarly celebrates life’s beautiful losers and is among the most affecting songs Sexsmith has ever written.

Of course, there are also the more throwaway efforts from the affable Canuck, from the slowly shimmery doo-wop backing vocals on ‘These Days’ to the simple imagery of ‘Up The Road’.

The Canuck doesn’t have the strongest vocal chords in the world, and indeed, he sounds frighteningly like The Simpsons’ Barney Gumble on the opening bars of the otherwise impressive ‘The Least That I Can Do’. Thankfully, normal service is resumed on the upbeat ‘Disappearing Act’, where Sexsmith’s songwriting is back to its evocative best, while ‘The Less I Know’ is a song so swayingly lovely that even your mother will find herself dreaming along with Ron.

So another mixed bag of majesty and maudlin from Sexsmith, who, unless he is careful, is going to find himself adopted by the same turtleneck-wearing cretins who worship at the altar of latter-day Sting. Come on Ron, you’re better than that.