Gordon Lightfoot Book, Music and More!

Radiohead Kid A  The most adventurous rock album of the year takes dreamy twists and turns while veering off into nightmarish cul-de-sacs. But it ultimately arrives at its hopeful destination with a message about survival in an alienated world. Sarah Harmer You Were Here  The brilliant solo debut from the former lead singer of Kingston, Ont.’s Weeping Tile signals the arrival of an exceptional singer-songwriter—and a major new star. Shelby Lynne I Am Shelby Lynne  She’s all that Nashville isn’t— passionate, tortured, rootsy and real. That makes Lynne’s soulful album easily the year’s best country release. Paul Simon You’re the One  With songs about fat...

Sarah Harmer is no technical whiz. Sure, like any musician, she knows her way around a recording studio. She has a cellphone and an email-equipped laptop computer, which she tries to use to correspond with family and friends. Her record distributor even gave her a digital voice recorder for Christmas, which Harmer took on a Mexican vacation in the hope of capturing song ideas. Unfortunately, she left it switched on and the batteries were dead before she could figure out how to use it. Then, when Harmer returned to Canada, her old Ford Econoline van, which she’d left parked at her parents’ farm outside of Burlington, Ont., wouldn’t start. Alone in the farmyard, she was more than a little frus...

With intimate, observational lyrics and falsetto-laced vocals, Kingston, Ont.’s Sarah Harmer is already one of the world’s best singer-songwriters. Harmer’s second album is every bit as assured as her debut, mixing infectious numbers like the moonlit “Silver Road” with such darker songs as “Greeting Card Aisle.” The pulsing “Almost” seems to channel the Tragically Hip, while the dreamy “Dandelions in Bullet Holes” is a joyous masterpiece—more uplifting humanist hymn than meaningful anti-war anthem.

It’s been five years since her last album, but Sarah hasn’t been at all idle. The Juno-winning artist has been busy fighting to save Ontario’s Niagara Escarpment from development. Sarah’s fifth album features urgent, peppy songs like “Captive” and “The City” that owe more to her rock roots in the band Weeping Tile than her recent country-tinged recordings. As always, the Burlington-born activist’s greatest strengths are her evocative lyrics and a voice as pure as the rural wilderness she so deeply cherishes.  

Sarah Harmer’s new album—her first in five years—kicks off with the unsettling sound of crackling distortion followed by some driving electric guitar. “A new wind will blow through everything,” Harmer sings, somewhat ominously, “through everything I know.” It’s the dramatic opening of a recording that represents a stark shift away from the celebrated singer-songwriter’s last studio release, I’m a Mountain. Where that Polaris Prize-nominated album was steeped in bittersweet bluegrass, Harmer’s new oh little fire is a defiantly rockier and, mostly, happier affair. “I’ve always loved rock music and repetitive guitars and I do think this album sounds like some of my work with Weeping Tile,” says...