Review: AN EVENING WITH SARAH MCLACHLAN BETTER BROKEN TOUR at The Armory

Sarah McLachlan doesn’t make a big entrance. She just walks out, smiles like she’s greeting old friends, and settles in behind the piano as if she’s about to play something she wrote five minutes ago. That’s how the night started at the Armory, and the whole show kept that same unforced, almost conversational energy.

She opened with “Better Broken,” and you could immediately hear why she’s still touring new music this deep into her career: the songs hold up. They feel lived-in, not polished to death. McLachlan bounced between piano and guitar throughout the night, letting the instruments choose the mood rather than making a show of switching between them.

“Possession” came early and sounded sharper than I’ve heard it in years—less breathy, more pointed. When she got to “I Will Remember You” and “Adia,” the crowd around me basically turned into one big whisper-singing choir. It wasn’t loud, but everyone knew every lyric. “Building a Mystery” followed with that sly little grin she gives when she knows she’s about to hit a crowd-pleaser.

The middle of the set dug a bit deeper: “Reminds Me,” “Wait,” “World on Fire.” These songs don’t get radio replay anymore, but hearing them live reminded me how sturdy her catalog actually is. The newer Better Broken tracks—“One in a Long Line,” “The Last to Go,” “If This Is the End…”—fit right in. They’re quieter, slightly bruised songs, but she delivers them with this calm, clear-eyed honesty that works better in person than it does through headphones.

The room settled into a long hush for “Answer” and “Elsewhere.” She played both at the piano, lights way down, like she was trying not to break the spell by moving too quickly. Then she snapped the gloom in half with “Ice Cream.” People laughed as soon as she played the first few notes—one of those perfect tension-release moments.

“Fear” rolling into “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” felt like the emotional peak of the show. She didn’t over-sing them; she just let them land the way they always have, but with a little more gravity than the album versions.

The encore was short but exactly what everyone wanted: “Gravity” first, soft and steady, and then “Angel.” You could hear the whole room inhale when she started it. No surprises, no reinvention—just the song, as vulnerable as ever. It still hits like a memory you thought you’d organized better.

When she left the stage, people didn’t explode into applause so much as exhale. It was that kind of show—quiet, grounded, and somehow restorative. McLachlan doesn’t perform like someone chasing nostalgia or relevance. She performs like someone who still has something true to say, and on Sunday night in Minneapolis, she said it beautifully.

Thank you Sarah for an amazing night of music! We hope to have you back again soon!

Photo courtesy of Sarah McLachlan