Every city has hundreds of songbirds-in-waiting: soft-spoken female (occasionally male) singer-songwriters penning thoughtful lyrics about relationships. Give them half a chance and they’ll try to steal your heart with their fey charms and unassuming manner. You probably have a favourite one yourself, a singer-songwriter you discovered in university or during your first months in a new city. No one else knows who they are, and you can’t really explain to your friends why you like them. For the majority of these artists, obscurity or cult celebrity is the final destination; in Canada there are a number of singers vying for an opening spot on a Chantal Kreviazuk tour, including Tara Maclean, Sarah Slean and Emm Gryner. And despite my snarky Kreviazuk reference, some of them ain’t half bad.

But there are others who seem well suited to the small niche they’ve carved out, whether it’s a semi-regular gig in the town pub or busking for crowds in Harvard Square. You’d almost hate to see them become more successful, because then it’d feel like your little secret was out. For a couple of years now, Jill Barber’s been playing the Ontario university circuit, both alone and with brother Matthew Barber (who does a mean little college rock thing himself). She is, perhaps, the epitome of the obscure favourite singer-songwriter: she has a down-to-earth appeal that’s immediately evident when you see her play, and her rich, luxurious voice recalls the soothing tones of Sarah Harmer without imitating her style.

A Note To Follow So was a self-released EP that’s now out of print, but some of the same songs appear on her follow-up release Oh Heart. With Maplemusic distribution and support, it looks as though Barber’s moving up in the world. I’d tell you to pay close attention to her, but you’ve got your own little secret to keep an eye on, I’m sure. If you can afford one more, though, Jill Barber’s not a bad one.