Kathleen Edwards, Eh?

If there was ever a time for Kathleen Edwards to break out of her folksy Canadiana bubble, this year was it. Coming in the wake of her divorce from longtime collaborator Colin Cripps, her new album Voyageur was co-produced by Edwards' Grammy Award-winning new boyfriend, Bon Iver leader Justin Vernon. His involvement meant that the collection came loaded with crossover potential and generated plenty of international blog buzz.

Of course, it's unfair to judge a songwriter of Edwards' calibre by her significant other, but there's no question that Vernon is much, much more famous than her, and that's to say nothing of his distinctive, baroque-tinged production style. Like many other music fans, I was curious: would Vernon overhaul Edwards' tried and true roots pop sound?

Voyageur's first song, "Empty Threat," swiftly answers that question with a resounding no. It finds Edwards sticking to her strengths and employing a blend of acoustic guitar, overdriven electric leads, and countrified pedal steel. It could have come out at any point in the songwriter's career to date, and it wouldn't have sounded out of place (apart from perhaps those few seconds of backmasked ambience when you first hit play).

This opening number is bolstered by a killer chorus on which Edwards sings, "I'm moving to America/It's an empty threat." Whether it was intended or not, there's a message here for us Canadians: she may have gained a little more recognition in the U.S.A., but Edwards won't be selling out her home and native land anytime soon.

The bulk of this ballad-heavy collection is also familiar. The sunny "Sidecar" is a joyful celebration of new love with lyrics about "breakfast in bed and coffee and juice," while the wistfully rocking "Change the Sheets" boasts one of the most memorable hooks in Edwards' oeuvre (even if it's a tad difficult to ignore the title's bed-wetting implications).

Okay, I'm simplifying things a little, since there are times when Vernon's influence shines through. The parum-papum-pum-style marching drums that enter halfway through "A Soft Place to Land" recall Bon Iver, as does the peculiar use of a bicycle bell and Morse code during the jammed out sections of "Going to Hell." What's more, much of the collection gives Edwards' tunes an extra hint of reverb-kissed atmosphere. But at their core, these songs showcase the Ottawa, ON-born Edwards as we've always known her: lyrical, folksy, and unrepentantly Canadian.

When Edwards swings through Vancouver's Commodore Ballroom on April 6, she will have spent most of the past month in Europe and the U.S.A. We're guessing that she may have been a little homesick while she was away, so somebody do the woman a favour and pelt the stage with Timbits.