It's been four-and-a-half years since Leslie Feist released her third album
The Reminder which catapulted the post-Aughts queen of indie rock into bona fide superstardom. Few have likely forgotten her since her subsequent hiatus, and even fewer will likely forget her after an album as fresh and powerful as
Metals.
If there was one thing that struck me right away about
Metals, it was its dense, intricate and bold arrangements. Opener "The Bad in Everyone," a track as musically and lyrically turbulent as one would expect from its title, pretty much sets the pace and bleak tone for the rest of the album with its heavy opening drums and sombre strings and horns.
The next track
"Graveyards" includes the first of
Metals' several sweeping harmonies. The dark orchestral quality that pervades the majority of
Metals, which is often heightened by these very harmonies, continues on
"Caught A Long Wind," a delicate track lightly accented by tenuous strings. As "Long Wind" shows, even when the pace slows down on
Metals, and the songs are sparser, Feist still sounds very loud. (It should be noted that in this and similar cases, "sparse" on
Metals still at least means seamlessly composed strings, pianos and guitars.)
Upon first listen of
Metals' lead single
"How Come You Never Go There," listeners might have wondered how the song, so unconventional from the rest of Feist's work, would fit into the album. But such wonder is completely dispelled when the song seamlessly transitions from "Caught A Long Wind": "How Come You Never Go There"'s unusual song structure, less-is-more horns and particularly the song’s plodding rhythm seem all too logical of progressions when compared to the rest of the despairing album.
The dramatic
"A Commotion" gave me chills, the first time I heard it. And although the harmonic chants of the song's title, agitated, jittery riff and overall sense of urgency all give me goosebumps, the highlight of "A Commotion," and perhaps the most unexpected musical moment on the album, is an exotic instrumental line by something that sounds like a wind instrument I can't identify. "A Commotion" was indisputably the most attention-grabbing song on
Metals for me, up to this point.
Metals mellows out by its second half, starting with the next track
"The Circle Married the Line," the most tender moment on
Metals yet, if only for its few twinkling triangles, note-picked acoustic guitar and soft harmonies.
Following "The Circle Married the Line" in sequence as well as tempo and sparseness is
"Bittersweet Melodies." What sets this latter triangle-sprinkled song apart from the rest of
Metals (besides "Anti-Pioneer," which I will address momentarily) is that it harkens Feist's first album
Monarch (Lay Your Jewelled Head Down), though "Bittersweet Melodies" is more intricately composed, louder and clearer in production than anything on her debut. Likewise,
"Anti-Pioneer," which may tie with
"Cicadas and Gulls" as the barest song on
Metals, also harkens classic Feist, as it is a re-working of her popular live number "When the Month Changes Numbers" from as far back as 2004. And speaking of "Cicadas and Gulls," it is the only instance I can think of during which I thought of another artist while listening to Feist. Indeed, Feist’s hollow vocals, thin harmonies and folky acoustic guitar on the lullaby-like "Cicadas and Gulls" could unwittingly pass as a Cat Power song and also closely recall the
Reminder cut
"The Park" by Feist herself.
My favourite song on
Metals may very well be
"Undiscovered First," the most guitar-oriented track on the album, although it too is interspersed with horns and erupts in a
HUGE climax with an insane, torrential, high-register harmony, thudding drums and various other rattling percussion before ending with the echo of ghostly background vocals.
Overall,
Metals features an emphasis on strings not heard of much from Feist since
Monarch. And it is often the rich confluence of these strings with other elements such as heavy drumbeats, pianos and horns that prevents even
Metals' lightest songs from sounding airy and upbeat to the overtly poppy extents of "1234," "Mushaboom," "I Feel It All" and "Past and Present." Even
Metals' most relaxed moments almost always take stormier turns with huge climaxes wherein all of the aforementioned elements collide at once, making for a very stark contrasts within songs.
Even during
Metals' most reserved moments, there is at least an underlying force behind the album. Surprisingly, that force, as well as the latter half of
Metals' frequent quiet/loud, soft/heavy contrasts within individual songs, never becomes overbearing or exhaustive. Indeed,
Metals is striking in its size and ambition and furthermore striking when compared to the sparseness of Feist's previous albums which focus on her near-whispers, gentle coos and playful arrangements. Whereas
Monarch,
Let It Die and
The Reminder are albums you could put on during a dinner party,
Metals affords no (or few) opportunities to unwind.
The most satisfying aspect of
Metals, besides giving fans fifty minutes of awesome new music after a four-and-a-half-year-long wait, is that Feist has been able to grow so much so (relatively) late in her game. It's always easy for artists to become complacent after finding as much success as Feist did with
The Reminder, and as great as
The Reminder was, it wasn't too much of a departure from her previous work. But if Feist continues to grow as she has on
Metals, she'll have no problem keeping fans interested for years to come, even if they may not always fully recognize her at first. After all, to make listeners work in such a way - and for such rewards - is one of the best thing fans could ask for from their favourite artists.
