Feist’s Metals is one of my favourite albums. Let me tell you why. The first few bars of the opening song, The Bad in Each Other, set the album apart as one that uses an interesting combination of instruments to support a Leslie Feist’s honeyish vocal in a style that is both completely fresh and strongly reminiscent of a long line of jazz history. The album is introduced with immersive, syncopated acapella percussion, soon to be joined by the orchestra of sounds that characterises Metals as an album. Rich, warm wind and string instruments accompany piano melodies and sweet vocal harmonies, supported by ever-changing percussion. While the Bad in Each Other is a melancholy look at the nature of relationships, where the parties seem to live on different frequencies, leading to their demise as a couple, most of the other songs on the album are more mysterious in their content. How Come You Never Go There poses questions about an individual’s loneliness and its connection to past experiences. A Commotion is an intense, fast paced song which features baritone vocals which drive the song and support the colourful edits of Leslie Feist’s vocals. The Circle Married the Line is a slow burning ballad, made all the more interesting by bassy wind instruments and sweet treble melodies.
The album is romantic and easy to listen to, as well as being intricate in its arrangement and flawless in its style. As a singer myself, it is Leslie Feist’s voice that enchants me the most. There is something about the ebb and flow of her vocal that draws me in as I listen, it is technically flawless, but far from clinical in execution. There is a covetable warmth to her sound, even more so when the layered harmonies start to make an appearance. Whether she’s crooning Anti-Pioneer with a baffling combination of power and gentleness, or boldly captaining the ship on A Commotion, her voice is both consistent and versatile.
The subtle heartbeat and intricate guitar melodies have got Feist showing us the lower range of her register with equal confidence. It’s a darker ditty – somehow gritty and smooth at the same time. It’s catchy and unpredictable and interesting at every corner. Humble questions develop into confident answers and the journey is beautiful.
Cicadas and Gulls makes me think of the softer music that I love, a strong guitar melody accompanied by the softer side of Feist’s singing. I’m thinking of Eva Cassidy here, and perhaps the more recent comparison of the Staves. Perhaps what is reminiscent of the Staves is the effortless vocal harmonies that add a beautiful brightness to each track on the album. Except instead of three vocalists, it’s just one voice, edited to resemble a trio in an easy, seamless way.
While the vocal is the crowning jewel of the album, it is not the only event. The rich and varied instrumentation places it right where it belongs – securely supported by an equally flawless orchestra of warmth and colour. Metals is the kind of album that’s worth investing in on vinyl. It has a timelessness to it, speaking sincerely to the human condition. I believe it will still be relevant many years from today.
