As it turns out, yesterday's rain contributed greatly to the atmosphere of what ended up being one my absolute favorite performances of the whole festival: John Boutte at the free stage at East Avenue and Chestnut. There must've been fewer than 50 people watching, and it was actually a good thing; had the place been mobbed like it was the night before for Tower Of Power, Boutte's delicate sound would have been ruined by the distracted, incontinent, nonstop chatter that plagues outdoor shows.

Thank god for the rain.

Boutte's sole accompaniment came from his longtime guitarist Todd Duke. (Boutte also accompanied himself on tambourine, often with extraordinary rhythmic prowess.) What Boutte and Duke did for that wonderfully intimate gathering in the rain was simply transcendent. Boutte's voice is not only phenomenal, but he epitomizes soul music -- AUTHENTIC soul music. And he worked dynamics and space beautifully, pulling back from the mic often for a quieter effect, and pausing patiently before his phrases so all of the music felt unhurried, like every line was placed just so. Not to be overlooked is Duke, whose tasteful but no less beautiful playing -- a lovely mix of jazzy chords inflected with soul and blues -- provided the skeleton of the music and essentially stood in place of an entire band.

For all the sweetness in Boutte's voice and his humor in addressing the crowd, he also wears his frustration and pain on his sleeve, which made him seem very much like a real person with real feelings, not some smiling mannequin brought to life by a record company. Boutte spoke bluntly about how Canada was first in line to offer assistance to New Orleans after Katrina -- and how that assistance was denied by the U.S. government. Accordingly, his renditions of Neil Young's "Southern Man" and Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World" packed a much stronger, more sincere punch than they do in other singers' hands.

There was thankfully little pedestrian traffic from people coming and going at Tim Garland's second set at Christ Church. Garland gave drummer Asaf Sirkis and pianist Gwilym Simcock plenty of room to shine, and shine they did. Sirkis in particular splashed the music with actual harmony via his drums. At first I attributed this to the way the notes rippled when he hit his hang drum, which sounds much like a steel drum. But even when Sirkis used sticks on his regular kit in a flurry of notes, his rapid-fire delivery still brought something intangible to the music that went beyond mere percussion. And his energy and swing were infectious.

He and Simcock seemed to ignite each other's enthusiasm too. While Garland's harmonic sensibility didn't initially grab me (his approach sounds very much like a classical musician playing jazz), I was able to appreciate how the three distinct styles of each musician played off each other. After a while, I began to enjoy how Garland sat in the mix like a spice in a soup that your taste buds just can't place. After a while, the soup begins to taste good, and by the middle of the show it was tasting quite delicious to me indeed.

For their second set at the Lutheran Church, Finland-based quartet Delirium created moments of clarity bobbing in an unruly but altogether pleasant  maelstrom of chaos. Delirium is masterful at making free playing sound coherent. Last night, the music would fray, coming apart slowly before mending itself together as all four band members aligned behind a rhythm. They closed with a piece named "Blues in a Yellow Room," which was dedicated as a goodbye send-off to the festival.

"Was that a ragtime blues?" I asked drummer Stefan Pasborg after the show. "Yeah," he laughed, "but with a twist."

Fittingly enough, the last thing I heard at this year's RIJF was the sound of Dwayne Dopsie and his Zydeco Hellraisers, well... raising hell for a frenzied crowd dancing in the rain on Gibbs Street. The sight of dozens of umbrellas bouncing up and down told me what I already knew: that you just can't listen to Dopsie's music without moving, and that if anyone could hold their own against the elements until the bitter end, it would be him.

By that point, the other outdoor shows were over, so what a great note it was for the festival to end on.