Yesterday, Husband and I shook off the dust of the Yankee Homecoming parade and went a few blocks down the street to hear Richard Thompson in concert. Thompson sandwiched us in between two bigger and better things: The Newport Folk Festival on Saturday, and a gig at Joe’s Pub in New York on Monday. I’m not sure why Thompson keeps coming back to Newburyport, where he’s forced to play venues like the middle school auditorium and — big step up this year — the high school auditorium, but we’re not complaining. Once again, he was brilliant.

We abruptly foisted Aitch on the babysitter and dashed to the high school to find that the concert was sold out. One of our dog-walking friends, though, was standing at the entrance trying to get rid of an extra ticket. She was concerned that we wouldn’t be able to find a second ticket, and wanted to give us hers without paying, but we finally convinced her to take the cash for it. Then when the promoter heard that we lacked just one ticket, he graciously let us have an extra seat.

We had just settled in among a few hundred beret-wearing Thompson fans a few minutes before the opening act, Syd Straw, started up. Straw is a singer/songwriter in the folkie, Phoebe Buffet mode. She had an interesting voice and some good songs, but her guitar playing was strangely reminiscent of mine — four unvarying strums to a measure, just the chords, thank you very much. She appeared with her dog, a yellow Lab who wandered in and out of the wings, tail wagging.

What a contrast to Thompson, whose solo guitar sounded like a bass, two or three rhythm guitars, and a drum kit all rolled up into one. I don’t know much about guitar technique, even though my father’s a musician, but Thompson sounds like a virtuoso to me. This article gives a good description of the sound. Thompson was in terrific voice and, as always, very entertaining. He has a new album coming out, but any of his earlier work would make a fine addition to your collection if you haven’t yet had the pleasure.

Husband and I first heard of Thompson when Lin Brehmer opined that Thompson’s “1952 Vincent Black Lightning” was one of the two best rock and roll songs of all time. That’s a pretty bold claim for a DJ to make, and we would follow Lin Brehmer off the edge of a cliff if he said there was a good band down there, so we had to check it out. It is a fine song, indeed, and the guitar is especially good. Thompson’s also good at light comic songs — he unveiled one from his new disc, “Hots for Smarts” (in his accent, it rhymes), soon to be the anthem for girls who wear glasses everywhere.