Kathleen Edwards' Latest Album Travels Uncharted Paths There is perhaps nothing more frightening for a musician than change. Whilst legendary artists such as Neil Young and Bob Dylan thrive on their oscillating musical personas and more modern bands such as Wilco and Radiohead enjoy nothing more than reinventing their sound with each album, these examples tend to be the exception and not the rule. Although many artists may aspire to break their molds and embrace new styles, few end up being successful and even fewer even bother to try. While Canadian alternative country songwriter Kathleen Edwards does not demonstrate a major sonic leap in sound on her fourth album Voyageur, it's certainly a step. And while this step is a small one, it's certainly in the right direction. Throughout Voyageur, the idea of change becomes a motif that weaves its way throughout the album's 10-song runtime. This becomes immediately apparent in the album's opener "Empty Threat." "I'm going to America," Edwards threatens the audience in her gloriously lush voice. Between its crystal-clean guitar and Edwards' bouncy vocals, the song gives the album a nice blast of bittersweet pop that helps ease audiences into the album's later, darker moments. After "Empty Threat," the album then slows down with the melancholy "Chameleons/Comedians." Over some mournful piano noodling, Edward equates the role of a songwriter to a comedian. "A Soft Place to Land" finds Edwards harmonizing with Vernon over reverberating drums and piano. "Change the Sheets," meanwhile, mixes Edwards' angelic harmonics with a propelling synth line. An appropriate title if there ever was one, Voyageur takes the listener down a roller coaster of various emotional highs and lows. On one hand, you have tracks like "House Full of Empty Rooms," a dreary documentation of a dead-end relationship. Fast-forward two tracks and you have "Sidecars," a peppy tune about the promise of a new relationship. Such a push-pull effect somewhat robs the album of a coherent feel. Despite some minor pacing issues around the album's middle, Edwards certainly knows how to go out with a bang. Clocking in at seven minutes, "For the Record"- the album's closing track - is a mesmerizing, minimalist production that brings to mind some of Bon Iver's quieter moments. Beginning with a chiming keyboard line, the song provides a lesson in atmosphere, strategically adding a sparse drum beat, a haunting organ and some guest harmony from Norah Jones. In a career filled with beautiful - if sometimes uneven - alt-country pop, Edwards has crafted her best work to date. The songs on Voyageur reflect an artist pursuing new paths in her career. Based on what's to be found in Voyageur, that's a journey we'd all be wise to follow. Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Mark Rozeman The Emory Wheel				Album reviews Feature articles Interviews Show reviews