Feist – Open Season

A remix album. A remix album of Feist songs, an artist who writes quiet songs of solitude about love. I think it’s pretty fucking clear that she did not need a remix album, no, the world did not fucking need a Feist remix album.

The worst part is that all the tolerable songs are at the start – a soft, instrumental piano cover of “One Evening” and slow acoustic reimagining of “Inside + Out”. All the worse for meaning you have to then put up with thirteen progressively more embarrassing songwreckings (excluding “Tout Doucement,” which already exists elsewhere), like the Postal Service glitch-hopping up version “Mushaboom”, complete with the naive, outdated feeling that only existed post-millenium-pre-9/11. Or the impossibly laughable ruining of “When I Was A Young Girl,” with awful 80s sythns and samples. I mean, what the fuck? That’s not even counting the usual plethora of same-song-with-generic-beat-added remixes that comprise half this album. There’s FOUR terrible versions of “Mushaboom,” most of which try to hip-hop it up, with awful, awful results. Oh, and a couple of Peaches’ “Lovertits”. I don’t think I need to explain more how unnecessary this is. Feist is not going to be played in dance clubs, I don’t know why they’re pretending. If she was going to be it’ll be when she makes actual dance songs, not these half-assed “club versions” of otherwise good music.

Aside from those first couple nice songs, and the one nice repeat song, this album is to Feist what collectivization was to the Russian peasantry. It makes me feel sad and unhappy, today almost to the point of apoplexy.



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