The Reminder

There are records that seem to arrive in your life at just the right moment to become favourites. 

The Reminder by Feist finds its way to me amid the end of an eighteen-month relationship. It is tinged with the chaos of heartbreak. There are shades of regret and naivete ("We don't have to say goodbye / We could just hold each other tight") that look childish on paper but are sung with such conviction that they can render you speechless. There are lusty pianos, otherwordly chanting; tiny, inexplicable touches that you can't quite identify but if taken away you'd notice. There is blind hope on lead single 1234 ("Oh teenage hopes rise and fall"), and sultry crooning about the guilty pleasures on Brandy Alexander. Of course, affairs of the heart are nothing new in pop, but Leslie Feist's voice is such a fragile yet arresting thing that "pushing the envelope" doesn't seem to matter.

A few years ago, I'd have wallowed in a situation like this. I'd have listened to something childish like Muse and thoroughly enjoyed being a miserable git for a long time. But The Reminder does, for me, exactly what it says on the tin. It reminds you of those isolated moments of beauty that will stay with you forever, shaping who you are and ultimately, lifting you up again.