Ron Sexsmith wanted to be Elton, happy to be himself

ATLANTA, Georgia (CNN) -- When he was growing up in the 1970s, Ron Sexsmith's dream was to play piano. Elton John and Little Richard, those frenzied masters of the keyboard, those were his heroes.

"I saw Elton in 1976," a time when John was at his rhinestone-studded, piano-slamming, feather-boa-wearing height, Sexsmith recalls. "That's what I wanted to do."

But when he started his first band about 30 years ago, as he entered his teens, nobody wanted to play guitar.

"So I did," says Sexsmith, sitting in a breakroom at the CNN Center.

It worked out, if not the way Sexsmith, 44, had intended.

Instead of raucous power, Sexsmith delivers nuance. Instead of "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting," Sexsmith has "Average Joe," the story of a guy who mildly describes himself as "a walking disaster," and "Traveling Alone" from his new album "Exit Strategy of the Soul" (Yep Roc), in which he describes a world of individuals struggling to connect.

His songs have earned admiration from artists including Elvis Costello, Paul McCartney and Coldplay's Chris Martin. But despite success in Britain and Top 10 hits in his native Canada, Sexsmith is still waiting for a breakthrough in the United States. Though he's played large theaters at home, on his recent U.S. headlining tour he was playing small clubs such as Atlanta's Five Spot.

He's not fazed, however.

"I think it bothers people around me more than it does me," he says. "Sometimes I feel I can't catch a break, but you never hear any of my heroes on the radio, either."

For "Exit Strategy," Sexsmith and producer Martin Terefe beefed up his sound with horns and some old-school soul arrangements. Sexsmith also traveled to Cuba for five days of recording, though he confesses, "There wasn't a whole much more for me to do than watch."

He starts writing his sharply observed, often wistful songs in his head before sitting down with an instrument and working it through, he says. "Something about [the idea] makes me want to invest in it further. Then craft comes in," he says.

In person, Sexsmith is shy, a little nervous, a bit vulnerable. In concert, though he cracks jokes and fills the stage with a quiet passion.

If this is the life the music business has in store for him, Sexsmith will take it. A few months ago, he toured with Nick Lowe, whom he sees as a model.

"We're both on the service road," he says. "We try to do good work, and there's always pressure, but there's not pressure [to have huge hits]. A lot of people would like to be where I am."

After all, he notes, there was a whirlwind period for him in the mid-90s when he was going to be the new thing. Praise from Costello led to a renewed push by his record company; he was driven around London by Squeeze's Chris Difford and met McCartney. He saw how the business could love you one day and turn its back the next.

"When I was on Interscope [Records] I saw many new bands have million-selling albums. Where are they now?" he asks, quietly. "I'm still here."