[review 2007: honourable mentions]

I may as well admit it now: I listened to The Reminder in February, three months before the album was actually released. And though my limitless supply of PR industry e-mail contacts supply me with tons of artist bios, headshots, YouTube links and even the occasional MP3, it did not supply me with an advance copy of Feist’s latest album—as usual, album leaks took care of that.

Let it Die became a pleasant late-night companion during the summer of 2004. The syrupy easy listening lounge concoctions sounded pretty good during the day, but really came into their own around two in the morning. The Reminder is equally tied to time and season in my head, but this time around it’s the frigid winter that seems to best suit Feist’s third album, not the summer, which is why its February leak was such a happy accident: The Reminder just doesn’t sound as good in May as it does in February. Stripped of its loungey production, The Reminder takes on a wildflower soul quality that was largely missing from Let it Die, save that disc’s “When I Was a Young Girl.” Not surprising, because the raw quality of that track carries over to some of the best songs on The Reminder.

You almost have to imagine that when Feist went back to the drawing board for the new album, she decided to tone everything else down—the production is less showy, the arrangements less complex, the sound more intimate and bare—in order to show off her voice. “The Park,” one of the best songs on the album, is a prime example of this philosophy. Feist is left to sing at turns delicately and passionately over a sparsely strummed acoustic guitar, a bit of trumpet, and the sound of birds chirping, all recorded to what sounds like a public school tape recorder. The song is barely there, practically a ghost save for Feist’s splendid vocal work. “The Water” is not so resolutely lo-fi, but the result is the same—to showcase Feist’s wonderfully acrobatic voice above all else.

As a showcase of singing talent, then, The Reminder works very well. But the approach of suppressing everything save Feist herself occasionally does the album harm; “Intuition” is another lo-fi track in the style of “The Park” that doesn’t actually go anywhere, and “Brandy Alexander” doesn’t really coalesce for me. “Honey Honey” is a track that either hits a sweet spot for you or leaves you cold, so minimal is its sound and progression. Luckily, The Reminder doesn’t always stick to the vocals-only philosophy, as you no doubt have heard thanks to a fleet of iPod commercials. Though “1234″ still sounds stripped compared to her Let it Die material, Feist’s biggest song to date relies on a chorus of players and singers, finishing with almost Broken Social Scene-levels of flourish.

Generally speaking, though, The Reminder is more intimate, raw and novelty-free than Let it Die. If anyone had doubts after Let it Die that Feist wasn’t here to stay, this should put them to bed; free of adornments, Feist still impresses.