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She really is too high profile to be included here, but it is useful to remember that Miss (or is that Mademoiselle?) Feist first got her feet wet in the indie-rock communities of Calgary and Toronto. And despite the photo-spreads and the fashion shoots, she still mines the local constabulary for her back-up band and plays it live like an unrepentant rocker–just watch the way she holds her guitar. I’ve already listened to this a couple dozen times (it’s my wife’s soundtrack for early summer) and instantly forget the quiet, breathy numbers, jumping forward and back to the sugar-pop hits (à la 1234 and I Feel It All) and the heavy, yet still slinky grinders (go to My Moon, My Man and Sealion). Maybe I’m sick of the last album (not too hard, consider how inescapable it was), but I like what I like here better than I liked what I liked there. Does that make sense? If not, hang out in a Starbucks or some pre-fab hipster clothing store and listen for yourself. (Terence Dick)

CD, Arts & Crafts,

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