March 28, 1994
Publication title: MacLean’s, vol. 107, Iss. 13, pg. 59
Place: Toronto
Writer: Unknown
Heart on her sleeve
Stark, confessional, soul – baring. The songs of Vancouver’s Sarah McLachlan routinely draw such descriptives from critics, who often compare her to Joni Mitchell and Sinead O’Connor. And while her emotional candor has been an obvious asset, winning her a large, devoted following of her own, it has also proven to be a liability. McLachlan’s fans include some intense letter – writers — a few of whom have developed elaborate fantasies about the singer. One such follower, who believed her songs were written specifically for him, even moved to Vancouver to be closer to the object of his obsession. McLachlan felt so threatened that in 1992 she had a police restraining order placed on the man. But she turned the experience into Possession, one of the strongest songs on her latest album, Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. Says McLachlan: “It was a kind of therapy, putting myself in the shoes of someone like that. It helped me deal with a very unnerving situation.”
McLachlan is mature beyond her years. At 26, most performers are still grappling with growing up while trying to get their careers off the ground. But the singer, who signed a record deal at 19, already has three albums to her credit, each displaying increased confidence. McLachlan, who accompanies herself on piano and guitar, attained worldwide sales of nearly 200,000 with her debut, Touch (1988). Solace, released in 1991, sold even better and garnered praise from U.S. critics. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, meanwhile, is quickly becoming her biggest success, earning her nominations for best female vocalist and songwriter of the year at this week’s Junos.
Now in the midst of a three – month tour of Canada and the United States, where the album has been selling a brisk 20,000 copies a week since its Feb. 15 release, McLachlan seems poised for major stardom. Reviews have been glowing, including one from Billboard editor Timothy White, who wrote that Fumbling is “oddly ancient in its serene earthiness, utterly fresh in its patient inquiry.”
Speaking from a cellular phone on her tour bus en route from Oklahoma City, Okla., to Dallas, McLachlan described herself as a “lost, screwed – up little kid” when she was growing up in her native Halifax. Her marine biologist father and academic mother despaired when she began hanging out with punks and high – school dropouts. But McLachlan, who studied piano and voice during her early teens, found her footing through literature and music. When a Vancouver record label signed her in 1987 — on the strength of her evocative soprano — her initially skeptical parents allowed her to move to the West Coast. Recalls McLachlan: “They were just glad to see me happy and making a living.”
Her early songs were introspective, full of romance and inner turmoil. With Solace, she turned more outward, covering such topics as abortion and animal rights. Then, a 1992 trip to Cambodia and Thailand for the World Vision charity organization exposed the singer to the twin horrors of poverty and prostitution, which influenced her latest collection of songs. Says McLachlan: “I came away with a broader understanding of the world, of the darkness that exists out there. I’ve tried to express that as honestly as I could.” Tackling life in all its complexities, McLachlan is discovering the rewards — and the costs — of honest expression.
