Melissa McClelland — Victoria Day

It would be a mistake to dismiss Melissa McClelland's third album as unfocussed.

Sure, Victoria Day is stylistically all over the place, touching on bluesy alt.country ("Glenrio," "When The Lights Went Off In Hogtown"), piano ballads ("Segovia") and hell, even jazz (the backing horn parts on "Victoria Day [May Flowers]"). But it's far from unfocussed and, if anything, showcases McClelland's breadth as a songwriter.

McClelland has come a long way from the singer/songwriter-y, beige-ish folk rock that marked 2004's Stranded In Suburbia debut, and it's really hard to find anything wrong with Victoria Day. But the syrupy sweet, overly dramatic strings on the jazzy "Cry On My Shoulder" could probably have been omitted since they clash with the upright bass parts and make the song sound cheeky.

McClelland's quirky humour, which she first exhibited on Stranded In Suburbia's "Glimpse Into Hell" (about what would happen if there was a hole in the wall between the strip club and church that are next to each other on Toronto's Bloor Street West) also comes out much more on Victoria Day.

There are horn parts throughout the record, and you have to love the lyrics on "Seasoned Lovers," which features Ron Sexsmith. "It's pouring rain/And I don't have a jacket/You're a modern man/So you keep yours" McClelland wryly intones on the track, before ending with, "The rain makes everything/Look so grey and heavy/Just like our love." On the one hand, it seems like the type of poem a 16-year-old would write in their room, but it comes across as anything but when you consider the humour that's injected into it.

Though husband Luke Doucet can still be found everywhere on the record (he produced it, plays six different instruments and sings backing vocals), McClelland has truly stepped into her own with this disc. Hopefully it will garner her the wider audience she deserves.