Madonna. Prince. Cher.
Sting. Bjork. Bono.
The One-Named Rock Star Club is already pretty full. But they might have to make room for a new junior member: Feist. Her key to the big leagues?
Her third album The Reminder. If buzz is any sign, this much-anticipated followup to her surprise 2004 hit Let it Die seems destined to take her career to the next level. It certainly does that for her sound.
Cut quickly and informally in a 200-year-old house on the outskirts of Paris with the help of old pals like Jason (Gonzales) Beck, this mellow, minimalist set balances art, heart and soul in its tastefully modest orchestrations, experimentally inspired arrangements and eclectic mix of genres. For the 31-year-old ex-Calgarian, erstwhile By Divine Righter, former Peaches sidekick and sometime Broken Social Scenester, it's the culmination of years of evolution. For the masses, it could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
At the very least, we suspect she's not going to have to answer to Leslie for quite some time. A gently strummed acoustic guitar, a breezy samba-style groove and sandpapery percussion make a soft pillow for Feist's creaky pipes -- and a fitting opening for this hushed disc. The indie-pop beat is bouncy.
The guitar lick is bluesy and lightly crunchy. The keyboards add a ringing melody. And the vocals are every bit as sunny as the lyrics are bittersweet.
Leslie gets her Billie Holiday on over a poppy backdrop of thumpy bass, drums and piano, topped with swirly strings and electronic squiggles. This fittingly titled acoustic-guitar ballad sounds like it was cut outside, thanks to chirping birds that join Feist in song. (Fun Fact: They were recorded in Toronto.
) Lethargic standup bass, ethereal piano and vibes, a haunting horn and Feist's bewitching tones take us to dreamland in this jazzy torch ballad. So smoky you1ll want an ashtray. The disc's only non-original, this reworking of Nina Simone is an African-inspired chant that gene-splices handclaps and chiming Afrobeat guitar with video game synths.
An enjoyable dose of alt-countrified pop co-starring weeping slide guitars and a dusty lo-fi vocal. Short and sweet. Burt Bacharach could have had a hand in this flawless orch-pop ballad blending dark rhythmic undercurrents, rich strings and a soaring vocal.
Only want one Feist song? This is it. Dueling banjos and honky-tonk piano add a rootsy ambiance to the gently shuffling gait, finger-snap pop and brash horns of this nursery-rhyme counting song.
Co-writer Ron Sexsmith's wistful, romantic fingerprints are all over this piano-ballad ode to an intoxicating love, set to a heartbeat bass-drum rhythm. A staccato, percussive acoustic guitar line, a sweet horn-like vocal, a yearning lyric and a ghostly choir are all Feist need to transfix you. The going gets atmospheric to the strains of a blip-bloop keyboard line, a spiky guitar lick, some peripheral sonics and some ghostly backup vocals.
What better way to close things off than with a sweeping romantic duet decorated with bell-like piano arpeggios, twangy guitars and a shimmering harp?
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