Feist Audience A Little Too Respectful

Leslie Feist has attained that oh-so-seldom found niche in indie rock (it's a space also inhabited by Montreal's Arcade Fire): an appeal that extends beyond blogs, dirty clubs and college radio. The crowd at Friday night's first of two sold-out performances was as varied as any I'd ever seen, with toddlers and esteemed grandparents mingling with the indie-faithful, many of whom were introduced to Feist when she sang with Kevin Drew on Broken Social Scene's "Almost Crimes." It's tough not to smile when you see things like that, especially when everyone seemed to be having such a great, if slightly subdued, time.

Opener Gonzales had the crowd in the palm of his hand. The gifted pianist is the definition of showman. Clad in a white lab coat like some delightfully sleazy mad scientist, the sometimes Feist collaborator and producer treated the audience to close to an hour of vaudevillian comedy and music. Between the overhead camera documenting his faster-than-the eye piano theatrics on a large screen above the stage (he wore aseptic white gloves, heightening the black and white effect being projected) and his reading of some rather scathing — and in one case horrifyingly xenophobic — reviews to a well-planned medley of Cancon, he had room alternately in stiches and awe.

When Feist took the stage, the massive mirror ball that had been idly spinning above Gonzales lit up, and all of Massey Hall collectively shut up as the first sullen notes of The Reminder's "Honey, Honey" filled the cavernous space. Seguing into "Feel It All," Feist jolted most people at least into an upright position in their seats. Smiling faces beamed at the petite chanteuse and her now trademark red Gibson as she bounded through my favourite cut from her newest disc. She chose to pull most tracks from this year's heavily lauded release. A thunderous version of current single "My Moon, My Man" saw the Calgary native engage in a little choreography with the dancers from the Pearson Airport-shot video. The upbeat track injected some needed energy into the overly austere audience.

There was a serious backyard performance feel to the whole night, especially when the sagging canopy of Christmas lights above the band was lit. The crowd stayed low-key all night — until Feist made the off-hand suggestion that perhaps people might want to get up and dance to the boisterous, "Sea Lion Woman." Many obliged. And then, following the last ringing note, they dutifully took their seats again.Never one to let the romance wane, during her stark and affecting version of "Let It Die," Feist invited couples on stage to slow dance. The stage filled to capacity as 50-odd pairs swayed and dipped while Feist vocals drove the moment.

I've always preferred Feist live to the Feist I hear through my headphones. Her guitar playing is rougher, louder and more visceral. And that voice, well, what can't you say about that voice? It's something to behold, especially in a theatre like Massey. Her performance Friday night proved once again why she deserves the press overload and effusive reviews. She's really just that good.