I like to think of myself as an advocate for equal rights. Not a “progressive” or anything like that, nothing that implies I give a damn for politics and the spoiled, egotistical brats that enact it. Our basic freedoms are not a bargaining tool for those with perceived power, they’re a birth right. Opportunity should be open to all.

That’s why sometimes I feel bad when I scroll through my iPod and see the comparative lack of female artists there. Especially in the ‘most played’ stakes. Cat Power is there. So is Fiona Apple. And Alison Mosshart. Still, for the most part it’s dominated by male voices at a ratio probably close to 4:1. Maybe that’s my fault, maybe it’s the music industry’s fault. However Sharon Van Etten is fast doing her bit to fix that disparity.

Her new album is called ‘Are We There’ and it’s probably the best thing she’s ever done (though her last album, 2012’s ‘Tramp’ runs it very close). The New Jersey native is now one of the most dependable singer songwriters in the business. With this record she sticks to her usual bittersweet songs of troubled romance (sometimes just bitter, sometimes just sweet) while finding a point of view that we’d all do well to hear.

Listening to ‘Are We There’, you have to wonder just how messed up her personal life must be. ‘I Love You But I’m Lost’? ‘You’re Love is Killing Me’? ‘Break Me’? These are just the names of songs. Then again, creativity is often just channelling a certain experience or emotion over and over. Mickey Newbury once said that people assume he lives his life with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a shotgun in the other, given how depressing his songs could be. He said no, “I just write my pain”. Van Etten’s story, one that she’s repeated ad infinitum in her press tour, involves a relationship she had while she was first starting to write songs. She wouldn’t perform them out of shyness, and this bloke was far from supportive. He told her she had no talent, that she was just wasting her time. Eventually she dumped his ass and found her creative voice. So many of these songs tell stories of similarly fractured and emotionally combative relationships (and in the first person). Yet there’s always some element of hope or beauty. There has to be, doesn’t there?

“You told me the day that you show me your face we’d be in trouble for a long time”. These are the opening words of the album, from the track ‘Afraid of Nothing’. Hard hitting stuff. It builds into the story of a parasitic romance. “I can’t wait to be afraid of nothing”. A condescending lover and an affair wrought with fear and doubt. The song warbles in over some minor piano keys, distant plucking guitars and a stunning vocal performance from Van Etten. The next track, ‘Taking Chances’ however starts all synth-ey. It’s more upbeat; there’s a drum beat and more room for experimentation. This was one of the first singles released, and it’s a toe tapper, though it gets dwarfed between the powerful songs on either side of it. Given the quality of that pair, that’s not an insult either.

‘You’re Love is Killing Me’ may just be the emotional centrepiece of this collection of songs. Van Etten sings in more of a scowl as she lists all the way she cripples herself to escape an affair that she’s grown to despise. “Break my legs so I won’t walk to you/Cut my tongue so I can’t talk to you/Burn my skin so I can’t feel you/Stab my eyes out so I can’t see you”. Here’s hoping that’s just metaphorical. At 6:19 it’s easily the longest song here and it chugs along in all of its masochistic triumph. Probably the heaviest song on the album too. Van Etten opened for Nick Cave last year and she clearly learned a thing or two from Australia’s greatest songwriter. Darkness with intent. Violence with just a hint of hidden compassion.

It’s a standard trope to rely on relationships for songwriting content, so it’s rare to find someone with something interesting to say. Generally that comes from personal experience and a healthy dose of musical virtuosity in whatever form it takes. Van Etten sets her sails for all corners of the ocean. Following on from the deep pain of ‘Your Love…’ is ‘Our Love’. It’s not like she’s got it any easier but here she seems to find beauty in the depths. ‘Tarifa’ amps up the pace a bit, and even gets a little Memphis Soul in there. Both are songs that take a little while to get going but the choruses are nothing short of gorgeous.

Jagjaguwar deserves a mention as the record label behind this album. They’re the indie folks with rights to such talented artists as Bon Iver, Foxygen, Dinosaur Jr and Angel Olsen. One of the great purveyors of great music going around these days. ‘Are We There’ is definitely coming from some indie sensibilities and it works so well. Sharon Van Etten co-produced it and does a great job. There are a few different sounds here, some odd instrumentation and tracks that thrive in their simplicity. ‘I Love You But I’m Lost’ and ‘I Know’ are like that. Piano ballads that tug at the soul while the more complex arrangements of ‘Break Me’ or ‘You Know Me Well’ or ‘Nothing Will Change’ blossom with the various elements that they incorporate. ‘Break Me’ in particular always gets me rolling my head and closing my eyes and tapping my foot. There really are no weak songs here.

What ties everything together is Van Etten’s stunning voice. She sings so well, I can’t even put it into words. It’s not that she’s Mariah Carey 2.0 or anything. There are no vocal pyrotechnics; it’s all about singing the right notes at the right time. Her voice caresses each song with its lilting beauty. The songs aren’t perfect, they have some faults. Nothing in the performance feels like it could be improved upon though. That’s a trait that the greats have.

The final track is my favourite of them all. ‘Every Time The Sun Comes Up’. Just like the whole album, it goes from scratchy lyrical quality (“People say I’m a one hit wonder but what happens if I have two?”) to the poetically sublime (“Every time the sun comes up I’m in trouble/every time the sun comes up I see double”). Plus it has the best reference to defecating in another’s bathroom possibly in the history of music. It’s a stunning song, and it doesn’t have to be perfect. I’ve never once listened to it without feeling robbed when it ends as quickly as it always seems to. From the vocal choruses to the twinkly guitar runs (provided by Adam Granduciel of The War on Drugs – and mastermind to the only album this year that I’ve loved more than this one) to the beat that holds it all together. Even the cute little excerpt of studio banter left in over the dying seconds of the album (“My headphones fell off…”). My favourite song of 2014. And the video is great too.

‘Are We There’ can be a taxing listen. Not every listener is willing to take that trip through the emotional mines of fear and pain that Van Etten draws from. Yet there is beauty and profundity here too. And the quality is strong throughout. She may be one-dimensional in her subject matter, sure, but why does that have to be a bad thing? There is a message in Van Etten’s tales of everyday suffering. She doesn’t sing about the big fights, she sings about the quiet condescension, the cold shoulders, the leaving without saying goodbye. The dismissive cruelty that we are so all capable of. It’s not the large things that send a man to the madhouse…