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National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Identity Plagiarism

    A blogger steals someone else's life story and calls it her own.

    By Ashley Harrell

  • Westword

    Fuel's Gold

    How William Orr's quest for better, cheaper gas became a crime.

    By Alan Prendergast

  • Miami New Times

    Mold Over Miami

    The family of a dead judge blames a creeping fungus in the federal courthouse.

    By Tim Elfrink

  • The Pitch

    McCain Girl

    I worked at Kmart with John McCain's director of strategy.

    By Alan Scherstuhl

Feist

Let It Die (Cherry Tree/Interscope)

By Dan Strachota

Published on June 22, 2005

While Leslie Feist's backstory -- rapped with Peaches, sang with Broken Social Scene, opened for the Ramones -- is compelling, it won't tell you anything about Let It Die. Rather, this sophomore disc is sleek, adult-hipster pop, slicker than an otter's tail. Better than 90 percent of the freak-folk crap out there, Die is ripe with gorgeous organ riffs and jazzy guitars, inflected with subtle electronic textures. The songs are full of clever couplets about love gone awry, delivered by Feist in either a brassy coo or a heartbroken moan. Far removed from her eccentric beginnings, Feist's new disc is '80s soft-rock updated for the modern era -- what Sade or Bonnie Raitt might've sounded like if they were produced by Massive Attack.



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