Canadian indie artist Feist put on a soulful solo performance at Calvin Theater last Wednesday. The concert, part of her abbreviated Mettle Tour, was a bare-bones acoustic rendition of her greatest works, drawing largely from her brilliant 2011 album “Metals.”
Kevin Drew, Feist’s band mate from Broken Social Scene and her long time friend, opened for her. Throughout his short, solid set, he played solo tracks from his time in Broken Social Scene. One of the highlights of his set was a summery instrumental that he dedicated to anyone wearing shorts.
Feist came out around 9 p.m. She opened the show with an a cappella rendition of “The Circle Married the Line,” which set the tone for her excellent acoustic set. Her voice hit every note perfectly, coupled with subtle drumming on her guitar.
Feist described the concert as a smattering of songs from 2000 to 2014, a reflective, experimental set that marked only her second solo performance in a decade. She acknowledged the tour’s brevity when audience members begged her for more concert dates. The tour was a test run on the solo delivery, “a full-body toe dip,” according to Feist. The toe dip paid off.
Feist is a creative and experimental musician, one who engages the audience and loves her fans. The Solo Mettle Tour was a brilliant idea, a stripped-down reimagining of her greatest work as a solo artist. Shedding the backdrop of a band, the concert placed Feist center stage, an artist alone beneath the spotlight with her virtuoso playing and golden voice.
She’s also a remarkable guitarist, as she proved with mind-bending finger plucking on “Sea Lion Woman,” but her voice has always possessed a hypnotic, even melancholy quality that has made it her greatest asset. No matter the emotion it registered, it was always beautiful.
She employed a clever substitute for the rousing chorus in “Undiscovered First.” She dropped back from the microphone then with each passing verse she stepped forward, growing louder and louder until the song resembled its studio version, a rousing climax with heartrending lyrics like, “Is this the way to live / for me to be yours? / Is this the way to live? / Is it wrong to want more?”
Feist’s stage presence was amazing from the second she emerged from behind the curtain. She constantly engaged the audience, often in casual conversation and in playful banter. In response to an audience member’s “Ow Ow!” following a song, Feist feigned concern and asked, “Did you hurt yourself?”
She accepted many questions, from what pets she has to what she’s been listening to (a 1960s cassette from Iraq). Eventually, her rapport grew so strong she was cracking inside jokes with the audience.
Her personality emanated so powerfully that it became difficult imagining her with a backing band. Watching her nail every note and pluck breakneck chords, it became apparent that anything other than Feist herself seemed superfluous.
During her songs, she engaged the audience more than most acts. While playing “Comfort Me,” she coached the crowd with the song’s “nah nah nah nah nah” chant. The song offered biting lyrics like, “When you comfort me / it doesn’t bring me comfort actually.”
She read part of her friend’s dissertation about Socrates’s dialogue on cicadas, which she joked was her philosophy behind the calming track “Cicadas and Gulls.” The humorous segue gave way to a lullaby-like version of the piece.
Later, she told a captivating story about the Water Children of Micronesia. It was a legend she once heard about little islands in the Pacific that chose a child to live its life in the water so one day he or she could guide the tribe off of the island, through the ocean, and to a new home.
The Water Child, which the audience decided was a 17-year-old girl, grew to know the ocean so well that she could feel the waves on the boat, sense the shadows of fish below her, and point toward a pinprick of an island in the vast ocean. As she spoke, she enraptured the audience like a storyteller spellbinds young children.
Then she transitioned back to the concert, explaining that like the Water Child, she found her way back to the next song, and began a stripped down “1234.” The audience erupted in delight.
During a touching encore, Feist and Drew sang a piano ballad from their Broken Social Scene days. Their friendship shined through the intimate duet. At the end, the friends whispered, “I love you,” and Drew tenderly touched her arm, a fitting finale to a wonderful, soulful and intimate night.
Alex Frail can be reached at [email protected].
