Ron Sexsmith.

"That word gets thrown around quite a bit," a characteristically contemplative Ron Sexsmith quietly observes as he sips a cup of his favourite hot, brown drink at a Byward Market cafe. "I've seen that over the years. I think the first time I ever saw that word was in a review of my first album."

The word is unassuming. And Sexsmith's comments come in response to this reporter's recollection of his first encounter with one of Canadian song's most valuable resources. "How was he?" a co-worker asked afterward. "Unassuming?"

Yes. Yes, he was. And so he remains. Unapologetically.

"I think it's true of a lot of Canadians," Sexsmith muses. "Not to over-generalize, but there is something about the artists that come from here: They don't put on airs. If they do, they get shot down pretty quickly. You don't see people from Canada acting like Lenny Kravitz, with the sunglasses on indoors."

Well, we did have Corey Hart.

"Yeah," Sexsmith deadpans, "but where is he today?"

Hard to say. But it's not on the Main Stage at the Ottawa Folk Festival. (For the record, Gowan did appear there a few years ago.)

Which is where we'll find Sexsmith, bringing it home tonight with a gently-rocking set that will showcase a unique voice and a knack for crafting memorable melodies that has amazed colleagues since the release of the singer-songwriter's second album 11 years ago.

With that release the unassuming artist was thrust into the spotlight after over a decade spent paying dues in southern Ontario pubs and coffeehouses. At the close of 1995, the cover of the influential music-mag Mojo boasted a photo of Elvis Costello displaying his favourite album of the year: Ron Sexsmith.

"The U.K. and Ireland were certainly the first places to notice me," Sexsmith recalls. "And especially after touring North America for five or six months and feeling like I didn't exist at all, to go over there and have people know all the songs, it was crazy."

He never quite reached that Bono level of fame, of course. But that's not exactly Sexsmith's style.

"Sometimes, especially in terms of England," he suggests, "I think if I was more volatile I would get more press. Like, Ryan Adams is always having tantrums or saying all this stuff and he projects an image that's bigger than he is in a way. In the U.K., if you're not smashing hotel rooms or doing lots of drugs, they don't really notice you.

"So yeah, sometimes being unassuming can be a hindrance."

Persistence, however, can triumph over such hindrances. That, and a track record that is arguably unmatched among Sexsmith's contemporaries. You can search for a dud among the artist's eight full-length recordings, but you'll come up empty. Moreover, Time Being, his latest, contains some of Sexsmith's best work to date.

"There's almost this thing," Sexsmith says of his status, "that if you're consistent it's boring. It's like you should make a few crap albums and then come out with a good one. But I've always thought it's such a big responsibility and every record I make is a chance to make another first impression.

"I'm just amazed that I have a body of work ... I always fought a race against time to get established and keep up with all the Sheryl Crows and the Becks."

The Lenny Kravitzes and the Corey Harts, less so.