Tim is smooth. Not smooth like a baby’s cheeks: he has the grizzled and determined face of a Canadian lumberjack. No, Tim is smooth like a Marvin Gaye record, like honey dripped on toast, like a syncopated bass line right before it’s time to get down and dirty, the kind of funky jazz you’d hear in New York City at 2AM, the soundtrack to your most soulful thoughts.
Oh god, we’re so sorry. He does this to us every time. And he does it to audiences too. That’s why he’s on stage.