Feist, Album Chart Show@Koko, Camden, July 16 2007
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Nora Elias, MyVillage:
Feist, Album Chart Show@Koko, Camden, July 16 2007
review
She looked like a pixie. All in white and with a guitar bigger than she is. With cute bangs and the kind of quirky, offbeat, charm that’s hard to pin down. Like a pretty fusion of Björk and Alanis Morissette. And she sounded like a hazy dream on a warm summers day.
Feist. The eclectic Canadian singer songwriter who has already conquered her adopted homeland France with her third solo album, The Reminder, and is now well on her way to laying North America and the rest of Europe at her feet.
Defying definition she doesn’t fit neatly into any one genre, sliding seamlessly between indie, pop, folk, rock and jazz, picking the best from each to create a delightful whole. Smooth without ever being superficial. Rocky but with a sound that’s all her own.
Like the poppy and dreamy 1234. Bouncy, irresistible and sweet enough to eat. Almost impossibly contagious, despite its lyrical remembrance of the bottomless pit of abandoned teenage love, of “those teenage hopes, who have tears in their eyes, to scared to own up to one little lie.”
This is a little piece of pop bliss that hangs Feist’s beguiling vocals on a deceptively simple nursery rhyme of a chorus, “ one, three, four, tell me that you love me more, sleepless long nights, that what was my youth was for,” singing of “old teenage hopes alive at your door, left you with nothing but they want some more. For the teenage boys, they’re breaking your heart.” To a beat that sticks like chewing gum to a bus seat.
In
Creating that live music magic is a tricky task in the midst of re-shoots and intermittent breaks for backstage interview with the lovely Sara Cox, but Feist did an impressive job of conjuring up that joyous live gig atmosphere. Keeping the audience happy and keeping them going. And when the trade off is hearing the singer’s lucid and enticing vocals put its arms around beats as fast and flirty as those in My Moon My Man, clapping on command a few times really isn’t that much to ask.
This wasn’t the kind of gig where the crowd went wild (unless instructed to do so by the script of course) because strictly speaking it wasn’t much like a gig at all. You came, you saw, and you either liked or didn’t like what was on stage. And Feist was liked. Very much indeed.
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