Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. It is the weekend and last night I enjoyed some board games with my lovely wife. Musical accompaniment was set on random via our 6-CD player. When we are “listening random” we each get three choices. Last night’s were: Tom Petty, Tom Jones, Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, ELO, Grace Cummings and Creepshow.
I’ve reviewed one or more albums by all those artists so if you are intrigued to learn more, the blog has got you covered.
OK, on to an artist I have never reviewed before…
Disc 1880 is… Some Kind of Truth
Artist: Kora Feder
Year of Release: 2025
What’s up with the Cover? Half a Giant Head Cover does not a Giant Head Cover make! However, this cover makes up for that with bonus content – it is signed by Kora Feder!
How I Came To Know It: I read a review and then liked what I heard when I checked her out. I bought the album from Bandcamp, which is why I have Ms. Feder’s signature. Cool and thank you, Kora!
How It Stacks Up: Kora Feder has two albums out, but I’ve only got one, so it can’t stack up.
Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5
Kora Feder is a singer-songwriter with a young heart and an old soul. Listening to her records is like receiving a confessional from a close friend or curling up on the couch with a book of poetry for an afternoon of feeling the feels. It all depends on whether you want this to be about her or about you. Ultimately, like all great art, it is both at the same time.
I once had a friend tell me that he was “too old to relate to Taylor Swift’s music” which annoyed me, because great music is designed to transport you to a time in your life – maybe a more youthful time. Failing that, it connects someone else’s experience to your own, allowing you to hold a new perspective, or see your current ones through new facets.
Such is the quiet power of Kora Feder, who brings you in with every word, every note. It begins with her voice, which is youthful and green and full of sweetness and dappled sunlight. The rounded and unhurried phrasing reminded me heavily of Anais Mitchell of Bonny Light Horseman. It is a natural storyteller’s voice, but where the stories are less action/adventure and more personal journey.
The album wisely keeps the production to a bare minimum. Most of the songs start out with just a single piano or guitar to accompany Feder’s vocals, often with an open mic that lets you hear the slide of the strings at each chord change. I usually don’t like hearing that, but here it adds to the raw experience, like you’re hearing the song live at a small venue while sitting super close. Occasionally a bit of drum might come along to add volume, but it is relaxed and in the background.
The effect is that there is no barrier or space between you and these songs, and you are forced to confront their truths unvarnished and unprotected. This seems only right, as Feder puts her vulnerability centre stage, daring you to do the same.
The lyrics of this record are poetic brilliance, dealing with themes that are well-worn (finding yourself while travelling, navigating relationship and grief, and the age-old “what’s the point of it all?” we’ve all felt from time to time). But these are common themes because they are natural gateways to deeper thought, and Feder navigates them with grace.
Sometimes she grounds things in experience, like on “Orange Tree” where she celebrates her grandparents:
“Days like today I relate to the clouds
Grandma’s memory is fragile slowly emptying out
I try on her clothes to remind her where she wore them
The picket line the Pentagon and some Northern island
I’m wearing her favorite plaid shirt to weed the orange tree
I think it’s better on her but it’s fine on me
She can’t remember why there’s a hole in the left elbow sleeve”
On “In a Young Person’s Body” begins with Feder’s grief over the untimely death of John Prine, and delves deep into dark inner reaches of grief, echoing her uncertainty in the song’s refrain of:
“I looked in the mirror and all I could
see
Was a worried old woman in a young
person’s body”
It’s a sad song, and I wouldn’t have the heart to tell her that later in life you look in the mirror and see the opposite, and it isn’t any more reassuring.
But that’s the magic of this record, as it navigates space and time, the strum of the guitar or tinkle of the piano light and unobtrusively keeping you on the path. The journey is delightful, and I expect this record to compete for one of the best of 2025.
Best tracks: Rambling Man, Detroit Summer, Paragraphs, In a Young Person’s Body, Orange Tree
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