“Consider that as recently as 2023, Rolling Stone magazine founder Jann Wenner went on the record with the New York Times and declared that his new book, The Masters, did not include any women or Black artists because they “didn’t articulate” at the “intellectual level” of their white male peers.”


We Oughta Know: How Céline, Shania, Alanis and Sarah Ruled the ‘90s and Changed Music
By Andrew Warner
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Considering I loved all four of these artists for different reasons. This book left me so interested. It just felt very ranty and unnecessarily verbose for what it was.

To say that, as a teen, I was musically promiscuous would be an understatement.

I loved musical theatre (don’t judge me) and Christian Rock (okay, judge me a little) and Great Big Sea, and The Wailing Aztecs, (I *may* have taught myself broken ASL for Take Me to the River) a folk trio from The Sault that I can find NO WHERE online.

But my whole shriveled heart belonged, in equal parts, to Alanis, Sarah, and Jann.

This book – that feels both super-niche yet universal – feeds that shriveled heart.

The author has a way better musical palate than I (much like wine, I can only tell you what I like – what doesn’t make my face squinch up – not why) and it was fascinating to hear her talk about these artists in a technical way, as well as emotional.

I loved the bits of old reviews and articles, her personal anecdotes, her stellar audio narration, and the inclusive, intersection music suggestions.

I thought my TBR was long.

Ruh-roh, Shaggy.

Thanks to Andrea Warner and ECW Press for a book that is now part of my DNA.

Warner shines a light on a seminal point in music history with a clear eyed industrial - and self - reflection that both touched me deeply and encouraged me to look more at how today's reigning female pop stars have benefitted from this era (word choice HIGHLY intentional). It made me long to revisit many of the spotlighted artists' catalogs...and then to listen for their influence in so many artists who have powerfully emerged in the years since.

An engaging and informative reissue of a previously published group of essays concerning the four most successful female Canadian musical artists, feminism, and the author’s teenage experience of their music. A brief, light and entertaining read.


Thank you to NetGalley, ECW Press and Authors for access to the ARC. All opinions are my own.

Andrea Warner’s We Oughta Know is a captivating collection of essays that revisits the legacies of four iconic Canadian women who ruled the 1990s music scene—Céline Dion, Shania Twain, Alanis Morissette, and Sarah McLachlan. Fully revised and updated with a foreword by Vivek Shraya, this book takes a deep dive into how these women not only dominated the airwaves but also revolutionized the music industry, despite the media often reducing them to mere pop culture jokes.
Warner’s tone is conversational, making the book an easy, engaging read while also being packed with insightful research. Through these essays, the reader is given a fresh perspective on how Céline, Shania, Alanis, and Sarah navigated an industry that largely favored male-fronted acts. The media's double standards during this era are brought to light, showing how these women were often dismissed or ridiculed even as their sales and cultural influence soared.
The book excels in contextualizing the music of these artists within the broader culture of the ’90s, highlighting the rampant sexism and discrimination in the industry. Warner digs into how each artist faced criticism that male musicians never would. Whether it was being scrutinized for their appearance or having their success attributed to male partners, the essays offer eye-opening commentary on how these women challenged the status quo.
Céline Dion, for example, is re-examined not just as "the lady who sang the Titanic song," but as a powerhouse vocalist who reshaped pop balladry. Shania Twain, with her bold country-pop crossover, broke genre boundaries while facing intense media scrutiny for her fashion choices. Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill became an anthem for a generation of women grappling with their anger and pain, while Sarah McLachlan’s Lilith Fair created a new platform for female musicians in an industry dominated by men.
Warner’s reflections on her teenage perceptions of these women add a personal touch, showing how these artists influenced not just the music industry but also the lives of their listeners. The essays are fierce, feminist, and brimming with admiration for these trailblazing women, whose impact on current-day pop stars is undeniable.
The casual, almost conversational tone of Warner’s writing makes the book accessible to readers, whether they are longtime fans of these artists or discovering them anew. The book doesn’t shy away from discussing the sexism that shaped their careers, offering both a celebration of their achievements and a critique of the challenges they faced.
We Oughta Know is a must-read for fans of ’90s music, feminism, and anyone interested in understanding how these four Canadian women broke barriers in a male-dominated industry. Warner’s book celebrates their talent and resilience, offering a thoughtful reevaluation of the impact Céline Dion, Shania Twain, Alanis Morissette, and Sarah McLachlan had on music and culture.
A powerful, eye-opening tribute to four women who changed the face of ’90s music, Warner’s essays are both informative and inspiring, making We Oughta Know a compelling read for music lovers and feminists alike.

Fierce, feminist, and fiesty as hell! As a certified 10 things I Hate About you fan who loves the bands and artists in this book, I devoured every page. I am definitely grabbing some copies for other music nerds in my life!

What an informative, energetic read!

Despite being conscious and aware for at least the latter half of the 90’s, my knowledge about these Canadian superstars was practically non-existent. I knew Celine Dion was the lady who sang the titanic song that gives me goosebumps against my will. I knew that Shania Twain was a country singer that my mom liked and that man, she felt like a woman. My husband LOVES Jagged Little Pill so I at least knew more about Alanis Morissette’s music, and that she played god in that movie where Ben Affleck and Matt Damon were gay angles. But I only really knew Sarah McLachlan as the artist who sang those sad songs on the commercials about rescuing abused animals for as little as a dollar a day.

This book was packed with information, facts, and research, but is also written in an almost casual, conversational tone that makes it easily readable. It’s like listening to your smartest friend ramble on about their pet interest, in this case Canadian musicians from the 90’s. Another strong point of this title is that it explores these artists and their music in context. The music industry was, and still is apparently, a business rife with sexism and discrimination, the artists with the most talent or best songs don’t always get the chance to rise to the top. Additionally, musicians who are women get talked about and scrutinized in a way that male singers and songwriters just don’t. they’re more likely to be judged on appearance rather than substance, more likely to have their success attributed to partners or husbands also in the music business. This kind of thing was everywhere in the 90’s and is absolutely still a factor today. Reading this book wasn’t merely informative, it was eye opening.

It was an absolute delight to learn more about these phenomenally talented artists who really did change the music industry and music itself forever.