Feist: The Reminder review

Artist

Feist

Label

Polydor

Release date

23rd April 2007

Genre

Folk / Indie

Canadian serial collaborator makes bid for the big time on stunning third album

For a gifted vocalist, a stint in a band or a successful guest appearance can provide the shortcut towards a blossoming solo career: see Björk and her time in The Sugarcubes or Alison Goldfrapp, a one-time Massive Attack guest.

So it is with 31-year old Canadian Leslie Feist. She’s certainly served her apprenticeship. Over ten years, Feist’s sumptuous, swooping vibrato has graced records by fellow Canadians Broken Social Scene, Peaches and Gonzales. Her second solo album Let It Die, an indie-folk collection of originals and covers, was well received in 2004, but The Reminder sees Feist truly arrive as a solo artist.

This is an intimate, comfort blanket of an album, full of jazzy folk arrangements and understated torch songs. Despite its themes of break-ups, what-ifs and movings-on, it retains a sense of hope and warmth that perhaps come from its recording location – an old mansion in the French countryside that Feist has gushed about in recent interviews.

That pleasure in surroundings is all over recent single 1234 – a banjo and piano-led jamboree and its joyous brassy climax – and the rather more raunchy march of My Moon, My Man with its seductive, almost erotic harmonies. Elsewhere, Feist excels on stripped down arrangements where her beautiful voice can soar. The stunning Limit To Your Love recalls Carole King as Feist wraps her tale of letting a lover go around a gorgeous piano and woodwind arrangement while the bluesy acoustic lament of The Park reminds of Cat Power at her most heart-shattering - not least with lines like "Why would you think your boy could become the man who could make you sure he was the one?".

The Reminder is a potential classic. Its stories of moving on should reflect real life and see Feist leave all those collaborations behind.

More to try: Cat Power: You Are Free Carole King: Tapestry Björk: Homogenic Joni Mitchell: Blue, Ladies Of The Canyon