Anyone who doubts that life often mirrors art need only consider recent events in the existence of Daniel Lanois. In 1993, the esteemed producer included a song called "The Unbreakable Chain" on his For the Beauty of Wynona CD. The lyrics spoke about one of his cousins, a young French-Canadian woman who, unmarried and distraught, had given up her child for adoption. Thirty years passed, but not a day went by that she didn't wish to be reunited with her offspring-until one day she was, to their mutual amazement and joy.

Now the same thing has happened to the song's author, to his amazement and joy and perhaps even more to his surprise. For Lanois never knew he had a child; his former lover kept their son's birth a secret for 25 years.

"I just met him last week," the new father notes, calling on his cellphone from New York City. "For whatever reason, the mom decided to keep quiet about it. I guess she must have figured Danny Lanois was potential riffraff, but now that I've got my Canadian Walk of Fame star, I got the phone call from my son. He's an amazing guy: six-foot-two, handsome, four years of college, rich family”¦everything's intact. It's bizarre-and it's kind of an incredible gift that's come my way. Life is just full of twists and turns."

Lanois is still absorbing the news; astonishment and reserve are equally audible in his normally calm and self-possessed voice. But it's possible that in the months to come he'll have more to say: his next record, he allows, will be one of songs, and it's only normal that his new lyrics should reflect his new circumstances.

For the moment, though, he's still basking in the accomplishment of having released Belladonna, an all-instrumental recording of moody pieces dominated by his evocative, if unconventional, use of the pedal-steel guitar.

Pedal steel, despite being promoted by easy-listening bandleader Alvino Rey during the late 1930s, has never really found favour in the world of popular music. Instead, it's come to signify the weepier side of the country idiom; few instruments are so firmly linked to a single musical style. And like most pedal-steel players, country is what Lanois grew up learning. But on Belladonna-and even before that, beginning with Brian Eno's Apollo recording from 1983-Lanois has managed to untether the steel from its twangy clichés. His sound is rich and round, rather than sharp and lachrymose, and he uses it to sketch emotional scenarios that go far beyond the heartbroken landscapes of the typical Nashville City ballad.

"It's like my little church in a suitcase," he says. "It allows me to get out of my head, and I've just found my own way of playing it. Part of the attraction is that it's not an easy instrument to float with. You have to be dedicated, and therefore not a lot of people play it, because it's much easier to just pick up a keyboard or regular guitar. You can get some kind of quick gratification from those instruments as a novice, but the pedal steel doesn't work. You've gotta put in the years."

Lanois has also put in his time behind the mixing console, having helmed productions for artists as diverse as Raffi and U2, Bob Dylan and Emmylou Harris. And his technological prowess is as much a part of Belladonna's success as his instrumental dexterity. At its best, the new disc infuses its dreamy introspection with a dose of unsettling sonic grit; the pedal steel might sound angelic, but a streetwise rumble runs just beneath it.

"I'm interested in duality," Lanois explains. "I always have been: I think it makes for longer-lasting music when you have a mixture of sentiments. One can't walk through this contemporary life without being affected by what's happening in the war zones and the zones of poverty. And I think particularly the two songs 'Two Worlds' and 'Telco' mirror the contradictions of our comforts and those who are dying in war zones or dying of poverty. As somebody who has an antenna up for what's going on in our world, I'm sure those contradictions have made their way into the music. So there's a lot of power to be had from those songs, in that fashion."

And a lot of beauty, too. As the mariachi horns featured in "Agave" indicate, Belladonna is steeped in a south-of-the-U.S.-border sensibility, and its Latin-American influences run even deeper than they might appear.

"I was influenced, obviously, by that beautiful culture," says Lanois, who came up with much of Belladonna while living in Mexico, among "people who didn't have a lot but had a lot in their hearts".

"I found that when I got out of my usual urban habits it kind of freed up a part of my imagination," he adds. "If you take any time to look around there's so much beauty to be had, and it can make its way into your music."

Lanois, along with drummer Adam Samuels and bassist Aaron Embry, will share some of that loveliness at the Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts on Saturday (July 2). Expect a mixture of songs old and new, along with a half-dozen pedal-steel instrumentals-and, without a doubt, a whole lot of heart.