Saturday night on May 19, 2007 at the Jubilee Auditorium in Calgary brought 3000 people into the three-floor concert hall to see Feist perform. Raised in Calgary herself, Leslie Feist has more than a passing connection to the city and the venue: at age 6, Feist took the stage to sing for her very first time, with a community choir, on the same stage she stood that night at the Jubilee. She told us so in concert.

In fact, she told us a few different stories that night: one about how she performed at the Jubilee again at age 16, that time as an extra in an opera. Another about how in the ’88 Olympics in Calgary, she was part of a group of 1000 children dressed in bright colours that volunteered to take part in the formation of the Olympics logo during the opening ceremonies, and how it recently occurred to her that that’s how she got the idea for the video for “1 2 3 4.”

The reason I bother with these stories is because they kind of came define the concert. Feist’s mother and grandmother were apparently in the audience, and on her hometown stage, dressed in a semi-formal black dress, Feist’s concert felt like a community Christmas concert, in the presence of family, friends and fellow citizens, all of us cozily listening in to Feist tell stories about her childhood, and play songs that she’s learned since she’s been away from home.

The Christmas concert vibe was amplified by a glowing net of Christmas lights behind the band, which would glow alternating colours, green, blue or red. A trumpet player contributed lush, soaring brass melodies and harmonious behind Feist’s vocals, and an occasional saxophone, slow and moaning, added to the atmosphere: a brass band helping round out new arrangements of your favourite songs.

Feist quietly opened up with “Honey Honey,” the second-to-last track from The Reminder. With no introduction, the band snuck onstage in the dark, and Feist began recording loops of herself harmonizing with herself, the opening breathy wails of the song circling around a slowly-plucked harp. The gorgeous and subtle introduction gave way to an explosive, crunchy-guitar ending, from which Feist and the band launched into “I Feel It All.” It was a great introduction, and the crowd was ready to swoon and be swooned.

Since Feist last left us, we’ve had a couple years to learn every word and beat on Let It Die. You’ll be happy to know that every track from that now-classic album (and there were five: Gatekeeper, Mushaboom, When I Was A Young Girl, Let It Die and Now At Last) have evolved into sophisticated, living, breathing things. Gatekeeper developed a shuffling drum beat all the way through, and in concert, featured an incredibly beautiful extended trumpet solo by one of her bandmates. A tapdancer appeared for Mushaboom, and When I Was A Young Girl grew into all-out tribal warfare: triple the percussion, zebra-patterned spotlights, and fierce experimental vocals from Ms. Feist.

On the flipside, songs from The Reminder that one would be expected to be the most fully grown, were instead the most malnourished. Both My Moon, My Man and 1 2 3 4 – upbeat, danceable tracks born for stardom – were too quick and unpolished; too much rush and not enough motion.

These missteps were compounded by a few mechanical mistakes that took a few minutes to fix, as well as Feist’s frequent guitar gaffes (missed chords, imprecise picking) throughout the show. These kinds of malfunctions, which in any other concert would make the concertgoers blush with sympathy, were instead kind of endearing. This being Feist’s Hometown Christmas Concert and all, we were easily able to forgive our girl for making mistakes. Not only that, but Feist’s style is an intimate, transparent one, a style which incorporates mistakes into a friendly, spontaneous aesthetic.

After the show, I concluded that two factors make Feist who she is as an artist: her voice and her friends. Her voice, if you’ve heard it, is a given: instantly likeable, ever seductive, Feist’s singing seems to come with the blessing of all legendary female vocalists who have gone before her. Even in concert, with all production aspects absent and no chances for multiple takes, Feist sounds fully herself, fully in tune and fully expressive. It’s her friends behind her, nurturing her ideas and fleshing out her sound, contributing discipline and professionalism to her free-form approach, that help carry Feist from the category of hometown hero to world-class singer-songwriter.