Feist’s new album is her best. She couldn’t have made it until now

Plus, a rave-worthy sound reinvented for the Tiny Desk

View this email online April 15, 2023 by Marissa Lorusso This week, we’ve been thinking a lot about the incredible new album by Feist; plus, your newsletter editor says farewell. Sara Melvin & Colby Richardson/Courtesy of the artist The music industry loves to focus its attention on what’s brand new, young and novel. It can be “totally intoxicating,” writes critic Grayson Haver Currin, “to believe you are experiencing culture's bleeding edge with every incoming tide pool of best new artists.” But what does that mean for artists who reach their peak after aging out of the industry’s tiny window of mainstream viability — who spend album after album, maybe over the course of decades, refining their skills and only then end up making their best work?   That’s the case for Leslie Feist, Currin writes in a review of the artist’s sixth album, Multitudes, released this week. Feist got her start in punk and indie-rock bands before turning to a solo career of intimate, inquisitive acoustic music — you might know her from her early hits like “1234” (which soundtracked an iPod commercial) or “Mushaboom.” And on the five albums she’s released since debuting as a solo artist in 1999, Feist has continually tilled similar sonic terrain, Currin says, “looking for another way to sing some complicated emotional truth with admittedly mixed results.” But Multitudes, he says, is “unequivocally the best album of her career, because it so clearly collects and examines the hardships, joys and takeaways of her 47 years, then shares them in ineffable songs stripped very nearly to their magnetic center.”   I love the way Currin captures Feist’s trajectory in his review, and how he honors the steady, thoughtful work that has brought her to this career highlight — the way the success of Multitudes is, as he puts it, a “result of someone who has lived enough to have a story and worked enough to set it brilliantly to song.”   Thinking about the different, forking paths a life can take is especially meaningful to me right now. My position at NPR was eliminated during the recent company-wide reduction in force, and this will be the last time I write the weekly NPR Music newsletter. (To be clear, this isn’t the end of the road for this newsletter — other members of the NPR Music team will take over, and this email will still arrive in your inbox every Saturday morning.) I’ve been writing this newsletter for four and half years, and it’s been a joy to collect the very best of NPR Music each week and share it with you. This team publishes a lot, and the newsletter has been an opportunity for me to, on a weekly basis, stay connected to all of it. Over time, it’s also become a cherished space for me to reflect on how this collection of writers, producers and editors has continually challenged itself to create meaningful, impactful journalism without sacrificing the genuine love of music that animates it all. I’m personally quite sad that writing this newsletter will no longer be part of my weekly routine, but I look forward to reading what the NPR Music team shares in the future. Newsletter continues after sponsor message More to read, watch and hear Last week, Tennessee state Representatives Justin Jones and Justin Pearson were ousted from the House for allegedly violating the decorum of the chamber during protests concerning gun violence in the state. After Nashville’s Metro Council unanimously voted to reinstate Jones this week (they later reinstated Pearson, too), the crowd assembled at Nashville's Legislative Plaza celebrated, in part, with a song: Margo Price and Emmylou Harris led a group in singing Bob Dylan's classic "I Shall Be Released.” Our critic Ann Powers calls the bootleg recording, captured by a protestor, “musically imperfect yet unforgettable — voices colliding and coalescing, choked with emotion, reinvigorating a song that has sometimes felt overused and making it feel as bracing as the wind.” Girl Ultra came up in Mexico City’s DJ scene, but that doesn’t define her sound; across her evolving discography, she’s pushed herself to make everything from R&B ballads to danceable electronic beats. This week on Alt.Latino, host Anamaria Sayre sits down with Girl Ultra to talk about lost loves, why the city is "haunted" and how she copes with a nostalgic heart. Terence Blanchard made history last year when his opera Fire Shut Up in My Bones became the first opera by a Black composer staged by the Metropolitan Opera. Now, a new production of another of Blanchard’s operas, Champion, arrives at the Met. It tells the story of Emile Griffith, a closeted gay boxer who, in one of the great tragedies in sports history, killed his homophobic archrival in the ring. Blanchard also went deep in a conversation with Lara Downes in the most recent episode of Amplify, discussing Champion and the future of opera. “Noise rap is always a confrontation,” writes my colleague Sheldon Pearce, “seeking to either push you to the brink or pull you in closer.” JPEGMAFIA and Danny Brown lean toward the latter on their new team-up album, Scaring the Hoes, crafting a hyperactive, jarring and yet joyously chaotic rap album that dares you to stick around. This month’s On The List playlist from Jazz Night in America celebrates recent releases by women bandleaders, including Cécile McLorin Salvant, Meshell Ndegeocello, Arooj Aftab and Madison McFerrin. Tiny Desk NPR At the Tiny Desk, we love when artists challenge themselves to reimagine their live sound to fit in our intimate, stripped-down space. Recently, British producer and DJ Fred again.. took that challenge to a whole new level, playing the vibraphone and marimba, singing at the piano and looping sounds and beats — all at the same time. While that might sound chaotic, it made for a beautiful and unique performance.  Also this week: South London singer-songwriter RAYE performed at the Desk with the confidence of a veteran vocal powerhouse; plus, meet the 2023 Tiny Desk Contest community.  One More Thing Queen Latifah, “Margaritaville” and Super Mario Bros. make history. Listen to your local NPR station. Visit NPR.org to hear live radio from WUFT 89.1 (edit station). Need a new playlist? Follow NPR Music on Spotify and Apple Music What do you think of today's email? We'd love to hear your thoughts, questions and feedback: nprmusic@npr.org Enjoying this newsletter? Forward to a friend! They can sign up here. Looking for more great content? Check out all of our newsletter offerings — including Books, Pop Culture, Health and more! You received this message because you're subscribed to NPR Music emails. This email was sent by National Public Radio, Inc., 1111 North Capitol Street NE, Washington, DC 20002 Unsubscribe  |  Privacy Policy