:: Track Listing

1. So Sorry
2. I Feel It All
3. My Moon, My Man
4. The Park
5. The Water
6. Sea Lion Woman
7. Past In Present
8. The Limit To Your Love
9. 1 2 3 4
10. Brandy Alexander
11. Intuition
12. Honey Honey
13. How My Heart Behaves


:: Record Review

Feist

The Reminder
(Interscope; 2007)

Rating: 76%
Combined Rating: 72%


The video for "1 2 3 4" plops Leslie Feist down amidst a vibrantly costumed dance troupe for some cutesy choreography and a long camera take. It reminds a little too pointedly of Paul Thomas Anderson, of Feist's own "Mushaboom" parade, of hip kid demographics, of how much we music geeks are supposed to crush on Leslie. The song itself is a good one, but it's a good song pushed like a song that needs to do things that don't have much to do with being a good song. It gives us Leslie, that version of Feist that has been increasingly marketed to us, the one who prettys up a Broken Social set rather than tears it apart, on this song all fluttery flirting and instrumental swell and background singers and banjo. Does the fact that Sally "New Buffalo" Seltmann co-wrote "1 2 3 4" confuse the issue? Either way, it's an incredibly appealing song and it serves a strong purpose on Feist's new album: even if only because its whirling distraction is so different from everything else -- its companion tracks are so focused -- it tells us that this girl can be who we expect in the same moment that she somehow isn't; however we may define her, she humors yet betters.

"So Sorry" will get accused of being coffee house music; such allegations add to nothing if the experience still delivers. Brushed drums, upright bass, acoustic guitar -- yeah, of course -- but the wry ache in Feist's voice, the sly choral hums, and the descending silver tones beneath the staggered delivery of "we don't need to say goodbye." all indicate the album's first reminder: God is in the details. "I Feel It All" is the archetypal Feist song; an obvious choice for the second track spot of favor, like "Mushaboom" made loud, swinging away with a hard drum & strum as the keys create pretty cartography with a hole-punch. To the PopMatters critic that called Hell Hath No Fury (2006) "jaunty": no, dog. This shit right here is "jaunty." On "My Moon, My Man" unusual sexual implications arise (the title + "take it slow / take it easy on me" + "it's the dirtiest clean I know"); the piano-and-bass thump initially seems too plodding, too bi-level, but then it breaks into the cascading chorus. Staunch rhythm runs up against effusive melody and sound, a dynamic that compounds the effect of both parts.

True to its title, The Reminder is an ingeniously structured album. Feist presents three tracks of singles-worthy material, lulls us into a state of disaffection with the ethers of "The Park" and "The Water," kicks our asses back into full awareness with her electrifying rendition of a traditional chant, and then closes with a graceful second half of growers. Fellow writer David Greenwald posits that "The Park" and "The Water" accomplish nothing. I disagree. Only superficially are they less than effective: both tracks make for an immersive one-two of restrained folk when paid full attention. Their melodic cores are small and pristine, whispers which Feist handles with kid gloves. "The Park" is intimate and sparse; "The Water" glutinous and shimmering. They hang in the air.

And they thrive on it. Recorded in a two century-old manor house outside of Paris, The Reminder lets its mass ingest the ambience of the place, the bottom end bouncing off floorboards as country noise infiltrates through the walls and windows. It's dulled and faint, but you can still feel its presence, this sound of life buzzing quietly between Feist's beaming chords. Or it's plainly obvious, as with the field recording on "The Park." Where then does that muted brass come from, or that organ? The ear is a little surprised, thinking it was just Feist and her guitar and some rolling green hills, but the interruptions are slipped into the mix with such naturalism -- they don't jar so much as open up the aura of bedroom recording with parlor room breadth. And so a song like "Intuition" can creak and groan with such a labored, dusty weight that it just seems to possess the same great age as its birthplace. Feist's creative ingenuity here is striking: build songs on reworked tradition but allow tradition's surface cracks to color and position the new breed. Then twist again, like the chilling, echoed response that comes out of nowhere at the very end of "Intuition."

"Sea Lion Woman" is the jam, one that continues the album's reverie by intensifying it into a dreamy fever. The electric guitar leads between verses are charged tungsten, warm and bright, and they give the song a fluid arc. A traditional chant most famously covered by Nina Simone, Feist does it and Nina justice, the whole of the instrumentation clapping along to the vocal charge. After "Sea Lion Woman" The Reminder unfurls with song after song of masterful progressions and blooming arrangements like "Past In Present," which lets its guitar lead tremor a little in the final run through the chorus, or "Brandy Alexander," which dissolves and congeals into a golden cake of Feist vocals. And Feist's performance grips throughout -- soft yet throaty, measured yet passionate, always controlled and always bracing. Her songwriting has certainly evolved, and the production dresses it perfectly. The Reminder may not surprise, but it does force one to ignore the cloying marketed image and just love Feist for the talented individual that she is. These songs are as beautiful as we'd like to believe.

Chet Betz :: 27 April 2007 |