My Weekend Crush

I will admit that if you asked me a year ago if I knew who Feist was I would have shrugged and shook my head. In fact, it was the always discerning Scribe Grrrl herself who introduced me, and probably more than a few others, to one Leslie Feist. I should really send her a fruit basket or something. Since then, I can’t believe I ever lived in a world where I did not know her voice, a voice so filled with a haunting joy that each time I hear it anew almost makes me gasp.

Feist’s new album “The Reminder” could very well make her a star, with a major assist from the ever-present iPod nano commercial. I swear, every time it comes on I feel like dancing. Good thing I’m usually in my living room. While Feist may hook you with the boisterous buoyancy of “1234,” it’s the simple sadness of songs like “The Park” that will linger along the outskirts of your heart for days. Each time I put on “The Reminder,” I feel as if I’ve been given a gift. Equal parts exalted, beguiling and melancholic, it grows richer with every listen. And, once again, Scribe put it best: “The album does break your heart, in the best way. It makes you want to walk/run/ride/drive in the sun, in the spring, in a place and time where you can take the whole world into your chest and push it back out as music.” Check your doorstep, that fruit basket is coming. Happy weekend, all.