"New Ways" is a new album by Montreal’s Leif Vollebekk, whose music has been described as inhabiting a space between Sigur Rós and Bob Dylan. Two years ago, things were changing fast, and the songwriter didn’t want to forget. "I often think of Leonard Cohen’s line, 'I hope you’re keeping some kind of record,'" Leif says. "So I did." It was like he was pretending you can compose a soundtrack to your own life (which perhaps you can). In the end, "New Ways" is a document of everything felt, the way each moment arrived and moved through him. Whereas his Polaris Prize–winning "Twin Solitude" was about self-reflection, "New Ways" is about engaging and changing, touching and being touched. It’s a physical record, with louder and tighter grooves, and the rawest lyrics the musician has ever recorded. A portrait of beauty, desire, longing, risk, remembrance—without an instant of regret. "She’s my woman and she loved me so fine," goes the chorus to one tune. "She’ll never be back."