A review of Canadian sonstress, Leslie Fiest's latest disc, the Reminder. It's a cathartic experience for both artist and listener.
Band: Feist
Album: The Reminder
Release Date: May 1, 2007
Label: Arts & Crafts
Genre: Indie Rock
Members: Jamie Lidell, Julian Brown, Bryden Baird, Mocky, Jesse Baird, Gonzales, Feist
Guests: Erik Glambek Boe, Afie Jurvanen, Kevin Drew, Brendan Canning, Pierre Luc Jamain, Ben Mink, Chad Benchetrit, Charles Spearin, Lori Gemmel, Sandra Baron, Mary Stein
From: Toronto, Canada
Leslie Feist sweeped the world off its feet with her heavenly 2004 CD, Let it Die. Now she’s returned with her latest disc, the Reminder, to make love to us all and offer some great aural pleasure.
As a part of the Broken Social Scene family, Feist emanates a voice so clear and graceful it seems to melt through your speakers and dance circles around your head until you’re in another world completely.
Feist is so sincere, when she sings, “We could hold each other tight tonight” on “So Sorry,” you want to believe her despite the dangers.
What makes her fascinating is her enigmatic personality. Who does she love? Why does she love? These are questions she doesn’t even know the answers to.
In “My Moon My Man” she confesses that she doesn’t know what day or what phase it is. That uncertainty resonates in very earnest fashion in her voice – a sort of croon that can radiate a sense of helplessness, but also pride.
The magic in Feist’s voice is that it can make a person feel alive by embracing that very uncertainty. Her voice is the little white rabbit and we’re all Alice falling blindly.
While not as eclectic as her last disc, the Reminder has a beautiful charming warmth to it, especially in the slow and elegant stories like “Limit to Your Love,” “The Park” and “Brandy Alexander.” Her voice takes you on a slow cloud ride as she sings these songs.
She counters that warmth with some sass and seduction on songs like “Sea Lion,” which is a beautiful marriage between jazz and folk that will get you on your feet and your hands making sweet love as they clap along. “1234” carries that folk tune to a sublime level in a tale of crushing teenage heartbreak; it’s a tragic trek down memory lane that somehow becomes a nostalgic and happy recognition of a young girl’s coming of age in feisty fashion, accompanied by horns, piano and a wicked banjo.
The Reminder is a testament to this young and talented woman’s growth as a songwriter and musician. You can dance to it; you can make love to it; you can read under a tree to it; you can laugh and cry to it. In short, it is the soundtrack of our lives.