I'm not sure if I feel it all or if I want to count 1,2,3,4 on my fingers and toes and skip freely on a sunny day. The new Feist album is different. It's mature. It's sophisticated. It makes me want to move to the Pacific Northwest, put on cashmere, and drink a glass of red wine while gazing out into the fog. That's pretty sophisticated behavior, right? The problem is, Feist, some of us don't want to be sophisticated and mature all the time. There is a time and a place. So, I probably won't be playing Metals on a loop in my car for the next month or humming the songs in my head until I never want to hear them again. But I will pull this album out for a cold rainy day, a sweater, and a delicious Cabernet.
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