Sarah McLachlan
Afterglow

THE REVIEW

It is after a certain amount of time that Sarah McLachlan decides to release her new studio album in 2003. After all, she is a singer-songwriter who has always taken her time, calm and relaxed like the music she composes. Meanwhile, a few but significant events have occurred since her previous "Surfacing." The birth of her daughter, as has happened to other singers of her caliber (see Tori Amos), has further mellowed her already laid-back sound. The death of her mother, another key event for a (pseudo)feminist singer, deepens the psychological introspection that already permeated her songs. Finally, there are already signs of a difficult marital relationship, which will end years later.

Why focus on the biographical aspects of this singer? Because the lyrics of the songs are their faithful transcription. The central theme is that of failure, struggling love, guilt, and the hope glimpsed on the horizon. A horizon illuminated by the dim light of dusk (Afterglow, indeed), which allows hope in a coming dawn. The words thus outline Sarah's inner state, supported as always by a remarkable interpretative ability. Her voice manages to enhance the substance of every word with a pronunciation that lingers on every sound. A voice modulated in infinite variations, from the subdued and whispered tone to the hint of tears, up to sudden peaks with almost Celtic nuances. A voice with almost theatrical connotations that brings the words to life.

Regarding the more purely musical aspect, we are faced with a very homogeneous work, which perhaps lacks some of the verve of her early works (how can we forget the raw yet superbly evocative Touch?), but which gives us the image of an adult and aware woman. Folk reigns supreme, with graceful acoustic guitars and quick piano arpeggios. However, everything is seasoned with a measured use of electronics, as in the intro to the single Fallen or in the pulsating synthesizer that underlies World on fire, or again in the synthetic violins of Stupid. It continues with Drifting, which develops the Celtic nuances never abandoned by Sarah, with references to Enya's music. The folk elements stand out more clearly in Push or in Perfect girl, with a linear yet enveloping melody. 

Speaking of linearity, Sarah's songs always appear very fluid on a first listen. However, it takes more time to explore them more deeply, discovering how sophisticated they actually are. This is the case with the delicate Answer, supported by an almost essential piano, and with Time, where the electronics return to create a nuanced and evanescent backdrop. Finally, the album closes with the bitter Dirty little secret, giving the last touches to the subdued and shadowy atmosphere with which the album is imbued, a song that sounds like a heartfelt accusation to herself for the mistakes made, a quiet plea for help and forgiveness.

Thus closes Afterglow, after just over 40 minutes of listening. Enough, to tell the truth, for a sound that in the long run could bore for its homogeneity (but not repetitiveness). 40 minutes of pure relaxation, but also of reflection and longing.