Feist — The Reminder

The Reminder

Arts & Crafts

Noah Love (CHARTattack)

05/01/2007 11:30am

Canada has a long history of successful female singer-songwriters, with a hitch: most of the multi-platinum-selling artists of that persuasion aren't what you'd consider artistic. Outside Joni Mitchell, consider the following...

Shania Twain's hits are all fairly embarrassing. Alanis Morissette made one artistically decent album and then, without a similar commercial success to follow it a decade on, she did an acoustic version of the same record. Celine Dion is awful. Nelly Furtado isn't very good, either.

Then there's Feist, who vaulted herself into the stratosphere of commercial and artistic success with Let It Die, a no wave masterpiece that deservedly made her indie rock's "it" girl. The ensuing tour for the album kept her on the road for the better part of two years, and now she's finally back with The Reminder, which should easily make her "it" all over again.

Over the past couple of years, Feist has done just about everything in her power to establish herself as an ingenue. She's the female focal point of Broken Social Scene, with whom she's recorded popular tracks "Almost Crimes" and "7/4 (Shoreline)." She's lived in Paris (the city of artisans), sold out shows worldwide and took the mantle of biggest indie-boy crush away from Neko Case. The Reminder proves that not only was Let It Die not a fluke, but that Feist is easily one of the most talented and diverse Canadian artists of this era.

Sonically, the new record is about as far from "Mushaboom" and "Gatekeeper" as Let It Die was from Feist's '90s alternative band, Placebo. Where the sounds on that record were layered and electronic, the production on The Reminder is more organic. Where Feist sounded emotionally distant on the last LP, here she sounds like she's pouring herself into the performance, giving each song a compelling edge.

"So Sorry" is a stark acoustic track perfectly augmented by haunting choir-like backing vocals. On it, Feist sings, "We're afraid of our emotions," perhaps referencing the shift in her vocal delivery. "I Feel It All" is an electric cousin to "Mushaboom," a stellar track that quickly sets the tone for what's ahead: more rock than you've come to expect from the chanteuse. It's also likely to be almost as ubiquitous as the hit single from the last record.

A pounding piano supplants the bassline on "My Moon My Man," unequivocally the most engaging song Feist has ever written. Its crashing, dangerously escalating mid-section stands in stark contrast to her chorus plea to "Take it slow/Take it easy on me."

"The Park" and "The Water" are both decent slow-burners that nevertheless represent the album's only lull, especially evident since they come directly after its high watermark. Thankfully, everything picks up again with "Sea Lion Woman," a stomp-and-handclap track that gloriously devolves into a dirty rocker about halfway through. If Beck's "Black Tambourine" didn't suck, it would be this song.

"Past In Present" is a perfectly noisy folk rock number that's all slide guitars and layered vocals, while "The Limit To Your Love" is a chimey strings piece that continues modern music's love affair with the '50s doo-wop era. "1234" was written partially by New Buffalo's Sally Seltman, but instead of keeping it as sparse as the twee Australian would have penned it, Feist pushes the simplistic melody out to include a full orchestra of instrumentation.

"Brandy Alexander" is a love song that features The Reminder's most confessional lyrics, comparing the drink of the same name to a troublesome affair. But considering the subject, it's light as air, with Feist's vocals pushing the basslines to a climactic finish.

Feist appeared on the last Kings Of Convenience album, and Eirik Glambek Boe repays the favour by contributing the record's only distinguishable male vocals on the Social Scene-esque closer, "How My Heart Behaves." "My cold heart will break/If given a shake," the duo sing during the final chorus of that song. That seems like as definitive a line as any on The Reminder.

This is an album full of delicate storytelling and visceral sounds that — to cop a line from our April cover story on Feist — are timeless.

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