Don’t listen to Feist’s album The Reminder with headphones on.
Don\'t get me wrong - it\'s a nice album to listen to...under the right circumstances. But listening intently to this album will only reveal its shortcomings, not enhance its appeal. Throughout the album, it sounds as if Feist purposely builds songs around bass lines, and then seems to consciously omit certain layers of sound to create sonic interest. The result are songs designed to cut through the din of shopping noise in a mall, songs whose simplicity is intended to make you stop and take notice when they come through a speaker in a busy world. But, ironically, the same qualities that make the songs sound particularly unique and trailblazing in the mall also makes the album somewhat empty when it’s evaluated with a more attentive ear.
Songs like “The Park” and “The Water” are excellent examples of this – the spareness of these songs is refreshing by comparison to much of the schizophrenic, over-produced sound currently crowding the airwaves, but in a quiet room through a pair of headphones, the songs sound somnambulant to the point of aimlessness. In “The Water,” a bass line and Feist’s vocal are only occasionally punctuated by a haunting xylophone and piano line that leaves the ear craving something else – more hook perhaps, less empty space, a slightly fuller sound.
It is apparent that throughout the album, Feist attempts to mix traditions of Appalachian melodies and confessional neo-folk with a healthy reverence for soul music from the 1960s and ‘70s, then attempting to filter all of it through her over-simplification process. Unfortunately, the result fails to dazzle, but succeeds in providing pleasant background music.
Album opener “So Sorry” is pleasant and innocuous in the style of Norah Jones, resting comfortably where folk meets a lazy jazz trio. Again there is the dominant bass line, a slightly haunting background vocal, even an “energy arrangement” by British electronica DJ Jamie Lidell. The song demonstrates a simplicity of sound that borders on the experimental without ever really falling off the mainstream wagon.
“I Feel It All” is one of the album’s catchier songs, the sound fuller, the beat more driving, a ringing glock maintaining a whimsical mood despite the dark lyrics (“I’ll be the one who’ll break my heart/ I’ll be the one to hold the gun.”) “My Moon My Man” is rhythmic and sonically interesting, an organic version of an electronic 1980s sound. These songs represent Feist at her best, when the simplicity serves to freshen the music rather than crossing over into art-house sleepwalking.
“Sealion” is a neo-soul song interpreted through stripped-down production, electronic punctuations and hand claps. The backbone of the song is a gospel-sounding backing chorus, over which Feist’s vocal creates sonic interest by sounding so out of place – her folky, vulnerable voice rising over the confident backing layer. By the time Feist lets loose on the acid blues-rock guitar solo, the song begins to sound more like a traditional blues or gospel song, but its abrupt a capella ending reintroduces the spareness and returns the sound of the album to its essence - mountain music on the moon.
“Past in Present,” with is slide guitar and toe-tapping tempo, betrays an influence of country music as interpreted through 1960s pop. Again, perhaps thanks to its fuller sound, it is one of the more successful tracks on the album. Which is not to suggest that the only songs that work on the album are the uptempo ones – “The Limit to Your Love” manages to balance its slower tempo with enough sonic interest to create an inspired ballad – there are strings, vocal harmonies, and a lovely sense of motion throughout the song, textures of sound layering with each verse. It is definitely a highlight of the album.
And there is certainly no denying the genius of the true highlight of the album, hit breakout single “1 2 3 4.” Since the album’s release, this song has been ubiquitous, earning an appearance in an iconically simple iPod commercial and receiving a Grammy nomination for Best Female Pop Vocal. “1 2 3 4” is a perfectly crafted single – poppy, peppy, happy, and perfectly produced. It starts out simply with a strummed guitar and Feist’s vulnerable, little-girl voice, and quickly opens up to reveal endlessly interesting sonic textures – the use of a banjo is particularly inspired, referencing mountain music in such an unlikely song that the juxtaposition is almost irresistible. There are horns, hand claps, and an Arcade Fire-like, neo-gospel backing choir, and by the time Feist’s vocal lets loose on the instrumental bridge and the stride piano picks up the melody, the song makes you want to get up and dance in place. And as such, it sounds like it belongs on a different album.
But not surprisingly, the mood comes down again with “Brandy Alexander.” And yet, though it sounds like it’s going to fall victim to the sonic oversimplification rampant on the album, opening with just Feist’s vocal and a tom-tom beat, after the first verse, a loose piano and guitar accompaniment comes in to rescue the sound. The chorus’s appealing melody, gentle vocal harmony and clever lyric (“He’s my Brandy Alexander/ Always gets me into trouble”) make this gentle sway of a song appealing rather than sparse.
But the album\'s general flatness becomes apparnet again as it closes with three sleepy songs that fail to rise out of the somnambulant stupor. Particularly disappointing is the ambling, dreamy final song “How My Heart Behaves.” It’s a meandering, harp-accompanied duet that lacks any sense of finality or flourish, and ends the album on an unremarkable and dull note.
The ironic thing about The Reminder is that it has managed to charm so many listeners despite its stripped-down haziness, its general lack of hookiness, its cutting-edge-bordering-on-fringy production style. The album tops several of the “Best of 2007” lists and is nominated for four Grammys. Again, this album’s power seems to derive from its unexpectedness, which is most refreshing if you’re not paying full attention. As such, it’s a perfect album for background music, escaping the objections of picky coworkers by providing so little in the way of sonic layers. It’s undeniably pleasant in an office environment, that much is true. And its popularity isn’t hurt by the fact that it contains possibly the best single of 2007 in the infectious “1 2 3 4.” But upon further examination, the album’s unexpectedly simplistic sound fails to charm and simply leaves the listener cold, waiting for layers of sound that never come. “1 2 3 4” and the few other tracks that aspire to something greater are not enough to rescue this album from its general aura of “hippest Muzak album of the year.”
"The Reminder" is on sale May 1, 2007 from Interscope.
