Sarah McLachlan

Sarah McLachlan was one of the most influential artists of the mid- to late '90s, when she instituted the successful multiartist Lilith Fair tour and ushered a parade of female singer/songwriters into the upper regions of the pop charts. Even with the benefit of hindsight, there's precious little about Sarah McLachlan's 1988 debut, Touch, that foreshadows her eventual rise to fame. On Touch, she's just a 20-year-old girl from Nova Scotia who sounds like an overly earnest cross between Kate Bush and Enya. Still, there's at least a hint of real drama in the lilting "Vox" and "Sad Clown," and her wordless aria on the title track is, in a word, gorgeous.

Solace represented a considerable leap in maturity and focus. The production is less muddled, and this time most of the songs (notably "Into the Fire," "Back Door Man," and the hypnotic "Black") come with sharper hooks and distinctive melodies, allowing McLachlan's quavering soprano opportunity to do more than just flutter about like an aimless butterfly.

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy is where McLachlan truly came into her own as an artist. While still couched in lush, moody folk pop, the arrangements are notably less airy-fairy, with subtle but effective hip-hop beats pulsing just beneath the surface. McLachlan's lyrics are also sharper, her trademark earnestness now carrying a formidable edge. "This is gonna hurt like hell," she warns a lover in the haunting "Hold On," while "Possession" -- reportedly inspired by an overenamored fan -- balances romantic obsession with creepy stalker undertones as craftily as the Police's "Every Breath You Take." Surfacing, released the same year McLachlan unleashed Lilith, could use a little more of that lyrical bite, though the album boasts several of her most assured songs. "Adia," "Angel," and "Building a Mystery" were all worthy chart hits, but the aptly titled "Sweet Surrender" is the real prize here. Thanks to a steady drum-machine track and staccato electric guitar, it's one of her most driving songs and also one of her most seductive, as vulnerable in its romantic yearning as "Possession" was determined. If she doesn't have you at the opening "Doesn't mean much," give McLachlan and her music a wide berth, because she's got nothing left to give.

Unfortunately, that seems to be all too true on Afterglow, the studio followup to Surfacing, released six years later. While not without its moments (the lead single, "Fallen," and the longingly plaintive and genuinely moving "Answer"), far too much of this belated comeback sounds like a fallback. Apart from the post-9/11 references in "World on Fire," there's little to distinguish the songs on Afterglow from the filler on Solace or Surfacing -- though the later two albums have more hooks.

Mirrorball, a pristine live album released at the height of McLachlan's popularity, focuses primarily on Fumbling and Surfacing material, and it's a remarkably effective roundup of McLachlan's career, as even the quietest songs benefit from the (slightly) more energetic performances. The rest of the catalogue is best left to collectors and die-hard fans. Rarities, B-Sides and Other Stuff is the most interesting of the lot, gathering 13 of McLachlan's nonalbum tracks, including "I Will Remember You" from The Brothers McMullen soundtrack and a fine cover of Joni Mitchell's "Blue." The Freedom Sessions is a rather skimpy collection of acoustic Fumbling demos and interactive CD-ROM material, self-indulgent and unnecessary but not without some merit, notably McLachlan's smoky pass at Tom Waits' "Ol' 55." On the import-only Remixed, DJs including William Orbit and BT do their best to reinvent McLachlan as a dance-floor diva by transforming her languid, potpourri-scented lullabies into trance anthems. (RICHARD SKANSE)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide