February 23, 2026 — 5:00am
Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Ron Sexsmith. The award-winning Canadian singer-songwriter, 62, has written songs for, among others, Stevie Nicks and Emmylou Harris. His latest album is Hangover Terrace.
RELIGION
Did you have a religious upbringing? I was the only kid in my family who went to church.
Oh, really? How did that come about? Well, one day, these people knocked on our door trying to get kids to come to Sunday school at a place called the Brockview Bible Chapel, not too far from where I lived [in Ontario’s St Catharines]. My brothers weren’t interested at all, but I was intrigued: they said there’d be singing. So, every Sunday, I’d put my suit on, wait at the corner of my street and the bus would pick me up. I got a free Bible at the end of the year for perfect attendance and I still have it. I just found the stories really intriguing, and I’ve always been a sort of God-conscious person.
“God-conscious person”. Tell me about that. It’s hard to explain without sounding kind of nuts. But I had a record a bunch of years ago called Exit Strategy of the Soul, which I called “shadow gospel”; it was a spiritual album without the dogma and guilt that comes with religion. I never saw God as being this angry thing in the sky who judged people. I always felt it was more about unconditional love which, in my opinion, is the only kind of love that’s worth anything. I don’t know how it works. Nobody knows. But I’ve always felt the presence of this other thing. So when I say “God-conscious”, it sounds religious, but I certainly wouldn’t attempt to explain it like that.
Other people go to church. Where do you go? I go for walks every day. It’s a good way to work things out in my head and to commune with the sun and nature.
MONEY
Why pursue a music career? For all the financial security that it offers? [Laughs] Certainly not. I didn’t do well in school, but I loved music. I remember on my seventh birthday, we were getting ready for my birthday party. As the DJ on the radio said, “Happy birthday to Elvis Presley”, I fell down the stairs, right to the bottom. In a weird way, when I got up and dusted myself off, I knew what I wanted to do. And I’ve always felt this cosmic connection with Elvis.
How did you start off? My older brother, Don, was playing cover tunes in bars. When I finished high school, he said, “Well, I can get you an audition. All you’ve got to do is learn a bunch of cover songs.” I was only thinking as far as Christmas. I thought if I could make a bit of money, enough money to buy some Christmas presents for my family …
Cut to now, decades later … Well, I’ve never made any money in music, to be honest. I’ve made a living, but I’ve never had the big ship come in where I had an enormous hit record. That never happened, and I’m actually fine with that. But it’s funny: in my 20s, I got turned down by everyone in Canada and was getting ready to pack it in. Then, when I was about 29, I got some interest from Los Angeles, which led to a publishing deal, and then a record deal. And then I felt doors start to open.
What’s the richest you’ve ever been? There was a period in the mid-2000s when a lot of my songs were being covered. I still couldn’t afford a house in Toronto, but it meant I was able to tour for a number of cycles with my band. I felt relatively established. And now there were people in the industry who believed in me.
What would you tell a younger Ron Sexsmith about money and the business side of music? Oh, man, I’m terrible with money. It all goes over my head; I don’t know anything about it. Thankfully, my wife, who’s part of my management team, is very capable with all that kind of stuff. And now we have a house. I was 53 by the time I was able to buy my first house, just from hanging in there and being a survivor of the roller coaster that is the record industry.
POLITICS
What do you think about the idea that all art, including music, is inherently political? I think there’s some truth in that. Whatever you’re making – a book, a record or art hanging on your wall – is a statement. I’m not a provocateur with my music; I’m not really interested in that. But, sometimes, a song can rattle people. I had a song called God Loves Everyone in 2002, which was written after I read about the death of a kid named Matthew Shepard in Wyoming in 1998. [The 21-year-old university student, who was gay, was assaulted, tortured and left to die.] Some fundamentalist groups there got really upset.
Wait: “God loves everyone.” What could be more positive than that? Well, there are people out there who felt very offended by that: “Well, no, God only loves people who think like this or look like that.” One woman even came backstage at a concert in Chicago and started praying for me. She thought I was going to Hell for writing that song.
Wow. I didn’t want for it to be a political song, but it is about unconditional love and some people don’t want to hear about that.





















