VMP Magazine
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The Hidden World Of Feist's 'Let It Die'
It begins with the opening of gate, an invitation into a private but unhidden world that’s at least a little lovelier than our own. From that first-line summoning of lovestruck summer haze, Feist’s 2004 breakthrough album Let It Die lures you into a more charmed dimension, one that’s alternately soaked in the glow of sunshine-pop, shrouded in folky mystique, lit up in disco-ball glimmer. It’s an album that happens almost entirely in rooms, tiny and sometimes-solitary spaces where the mood is ruled by Feist’s shape-shifting vocals, her finespun melodies that melt all anxieties and heart-numbing guardedness. Through it all Feist reveals herself as a songwriter with a singular power to alter the very texture of your emotional experience, lending purpose to longing and turning heartbreak into something elegant and possibly enviable.
At first it wasn’t even meant to be an album.
