It seems that the natural gut reaction when a favorite artist comes out with a new, cleaner and more TRL-ready record is to recoil with feelings of abandonment and hopelessness. You loved them how they were. Now they have turned to putty in the hands of music industry marketers, and the result is a dress scheme based on sparkly blue jumpsuits! Well, maybe this example is not applicable to all cases, but long-term fans of Leslie Feist may feel this way when they see the video for "1234," a single from her new album, The Reminder. Listeners will likely long for the old Feist, who gracefully and subtly cooed her way into their hearts on her last full-length album, Let It Die, and before that with Broken Social Scene. But fear not, loyal fans! The old Feist is not gone! She may have put on a sparkly jumpsuit for one of her videos, but her new album has all the strengths of her old works. In fact, after the initial shock, fans may realize the benefit of the new look in the video. Surely it's not simply that old roommate Peaches left some of her clothes lying on the floor: Feist must have intentionally went for an unexpected look to make devoted fans realize this new album is just that — new. It is not Broken Social Scene and it is not Let It Die; it is Feist in a new light, shining as brightly as ever (albeit this time in blue sequins). Throughout most of the album, on songs such as "I'm Sorry," "The Park" and "The Limit to Your Love," the minimal sounds of strumming guitar and snare drums take a passenger seat to Feist's voice, settling back into their proper place as a soft background. "The Water" starts off sounding a bit like the work of Jon Brion, who did the soundtrack for "I Heart Huckabees," but the differences soon become apparent: The rhythm slows down where Brion would have sped up, content to merely provide patient accompaniment to Feist's measured vocals. The instruments only challenge and interact with Feist's voice on a few of the songs, upbeat tracks like "I Feel It All." However, the joy of listening to this album comes from the fact that the songs are not about the instruments, letting the focus remain on Feist's greatest strength — her distinctive voice. The vocals are heartbreakingly fragile and languid when paired with a strumming harp and soft but coarse guitar riffs on "Honey, Honey." In "1234," her voice becomes an appropriately sweet and peppy accompaniment to the track's mix of banjo, violin and jazz piano, combining with the instruments to achieve all the force of a Broadway musical finale. On "Past in Present," Feist's voice gains a sharp edge through electronically distorted production at the beginning and in intervals throughout, allowing her to compete with the loud My Bloody Valentine-style guitar riffs, but easily breaks back to being sweet and almost hollow-sounding during the quieter moments. Her throaty growl sounds like it comes from deep within, having rattled around her rib cage a bit before emerging from her lips. At other times, her voice cuts through the air, clear and pure. Feist's delivery manages to be incredibly rich but still very breathy and soft. This vocal range, combined with the range of instruments — some songs rely heavily on guitar riffs and drums, while others simply showcase Feist's vocals — makes for an incredibly varied and interesting album. This diversity of sounds, in fact, may be the album's only flaw, as the songs rarely flow from one to another as well as they might have. On the other hand, this keeps things upbeat and unexpected. Although the lyrics are difficult to understand at times, they can be surprisingly profound, posing thoughtful observations to listeners while still appealing to their feelings. Most of the lyrics on this album focus on imperfect relationships, often referencing the ocean in lines like "We're so helpless / We're slaves to our own forces / We're afraid of our emotions / No one knows where the shore is / We're divided by the ocean" from the opening track "I'm Sorry." Although these lines are probably a reference to Feist's long-term relationship with Kevin Drew of Broken Social Scene, they are vague enough that anyone can relate to them. The lyrics of The Reminder, however, are not all serious, containing catchy lines that evoke a happy bubblegum feel, such as Feist's playful command, "One, two, three, four / Tell me that you love me more" on "1234." At other times, the lyrics become more abstract and similar to poetry, as in "Brandy Alexander," which engages in wordplay like, "Though I'd like to be the girl for him / And cross the sea and land for him / In milky skin my tongue is sand until / The iridescent band begins to play." Many of the lyrics evoke imagery of dark ocean waves or a milky white moon, creating a mood that perfectly suits the elegant feel of the other elements of the album. The Reminder will impress both new listeners and long-term fans of Feist. There's no way around it — the catchy melodies of "My Moon, My Man" and "1234" will be enough to garner this album more popular attention than the quirky sounds of Let It Die. Although these glossy, slick singles may at first make old fans cringe, after some serious listening, they will realize that The Reminder is rich in content and only gets more subtle and experimental as the other songs are explored, in a manner very similar to the Feist we used to know. Grade: 4.5 out of 5