Canada’s West Coast never really left the 1970s behind. The voices and atmospheres that find fertile ground in British Columbia could only have come into form in vast, remote landscapes between crashing waves and rustling leaves. It is from this tribe of lonely, enchanted Naturkinder—a type that could never arise from these parts—that Ora Cogan, born in 1982 on Salt Spring Island (fittingly compelling) has emerged. She lives today in Vancouver, plucks the acoustic guitar, sings, and has just published the first song of her seventh (!) studio album. Her music is powerful and eerie, her voice equal parts wiry and breathy. It’s a psychedelic daydream, hazy and blurred, primordially American and speckled with pinches of jazz and grunge (whose roots are also not geographically far off). In listening to this medicinal magic, you volunteer to climb into an imaginary caravan along a rugged coastline, in the fall—not the summer, and alone—not with friends.

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