FEATURE: Modern Heroines: Part Three: Fiona Apple

FEATURE:

 

Modern Heroines

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PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images

Part Three: Fiona Apple

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IN the first couple of parts of my…

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PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images

Modern Heroines feature, I have turned the spotlight on two very different British artists: Laura Marling and Little Simz. Today, I want to discuss an American artist who is in the news right now. Not only is she rumoured to be recording her fifth album, but Fiona Apple is planning a collaboration. In terms of albums, we might see one very soon.

Fiona Apple has said she wants to release a new album in 2020, eight years after her last release.

The singer-songwriter has only released four albums in her career, including her 1996 debut ‘Tidal’ and her latest, 2012’s ‘The Idler Wheel…’.

Now, in a rare interview, the musician has discussed the follow-up to the latter record, saying she was meant to be done with it “a million years ago”.

“I mean, I don’t know! It’s hard to say,” Apple told Vulture when asked when a new album would be ready. “I was supposed to be done a million years ago. And I go off and I take too long making stuff. I’m hoping for early 2020. I think”.

Also, there are rumours Apple wants to work with Lil Nas X, and we might see something between them. Her last album, The Idler Wheel..., was released in 2012 and there is a definite hunger for Fiona Apple. Where do we start when it comes to the New York-born Art-Pop star?

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Well, I guess starting at the beginning is a good idea! Apple was born in 1977 and raised between her father’s home in Los Angeles and her base in New York. Music bit Apple (I shall try not to do too many puns!) and she started to compose her own pieces as a child. Growing up on the Upper West Side of New York, one can envisage the sort of sounds and sights Apple was exposed to. One of the things that staggers me about Apple is her resilience and bravery – sort to wander off briefly! Apple has revealed in interviews how she has OCD and has lived with PTSD and depression; she was raped (I will not go into that in too much detail in this feature), but she has experienced a lot of trauma and heartache. The fact she has come out the other side and is an inspiration to so many out there is truly amazing. Apple never conforms to ideals of womanhood and what a female artist should be; she has always spoken out and been unafraid to speak the truth. I shall go back to where I started. Music and dance were part of Apple’s upbringing. Her maternal grandparents were dancers and big band vocalists – the former, Millicent Green, her grandmother and the latter, Johnny McAfee, her grandfather. There was a lot of movement and change in Apple’s early life. She moved out to Harlem with her mother and sister but commuted to see her father in Los Angeles. I am not sure whether the transitory nature impacted a sense of individualism and focus on music.

Perhaps it was hard to put down roots and find stability; music provided a great allure and muse for Apple. She was a classically trained pianist as a child and, when composing, she would translate guitar tabs into music; she was a fan of Jazz standards and gravitated towards artists like Billie Holiday. I find that pretty romantic. One might imagine a girl of the 1980s being more interested in the sounds of the time. The fact Apple was more interested in iconic Jazz artists dictated the course her music would take. Apple did experience trauma as a girl (she was raped aged twelve) and developed an eating disorder. Whilst Apple has maintained there is a distance between her trauma and writing, I do wonder whether, in some ways, her debut album was a sort of release or way of getting some of her pain out there. Maybe not. Perhaps this would not happen now but, in 1994, Apple; had a demo tape with a few songs on (including Never Is a Promise) and gave it to a friend who was a babysitter for a music publicist. It was only two years until Apple’s debut, Tidal, arrived. Released on Work Records and Columbia Records, the album went three-times platinum. It was a huge success and it is mindblowing realising just how popular the album is.

Maybe that was helped by its huge single, Criminal, but the entire album is rich with melody, musicianship and passion. Criminal has woozy horns and Trip-Hop beats; Slow Like Honey and Pale September are romantic and sumptuous. If some critics felt Apple’s musicianship was far stronger than her lyrics, others compared her favourably to singer-songwriters like Alanis Morissette and Tori Amos (1994-1996 was a period where both artists enjoyed huge success and attention). After causing a bit of offence at the 1997 VMAs, there was some criticism from the media but, in honesty, they were afraid of an artist who was bold and not reading from a script. Apple (rightfully) does not regret what she said back then; an artist who was pure and authentic. The reviews for Tidal are hugely positive. I want to bring in this review from Pop Matters from 2009:

She wrestles with the burden of her despair and isolation, quietly hoping to be saved. Anchored by its smooth sonic landscape, and her restrained voice, it is very easy for one to grow engrossed in Apple’s intimate narrative. With its opaque and painterly lyrics, “it’s calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion” – “Sullen Girl” is able to elevate itself from a simple retelling of sexual abuse (i.e. Tori Amos’ “Me and A Gun”), and instead opens itself up to a variety of interpretations.

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IN THIS IMAGE: The cover of Fiona Apple’s debut album, Tidal 

 For me, the song was about grappling with the weight of my desires, for my mother it might have been a song that captured the loneliness of depression, and I am sure that for many other listeners, it was about finding the courage to accept their silent anguish.

Elsewhere, Apple tackles female exploitation, as is evidenced by “Criminal”, a lavish track that is ambivalent about the tension between exploiting one’s self sexually, and protecting what is sacred. And despite her young age (and innocence), her breathy Nina Simone-style vocals echo a maturity and understanding of a woman twice her age”.

In this interview from 1999, Apple talked about the changes from her debut to her sophomore effort, When the Pawn…

And where "Tidal" was a tsunami of adolescent feelings in which Apple revealed far too much of herself, "When the Pawn" is a decidedly more mature work that trades in youthful melodrama for somber ruminations on shattered relationships and romantic obsession delivered in Apple's husky alto. The album offers cycles of struggle and surrender, optimism and cynicism, hope and hopelessness.

"When I was sequencing the album, I was thinking about the amount of hope in each song," Apple admits. She also recalls cataloguing the album's ever-shifting perspective on relationships: "Don't try it . . . Okay, try it, please . . . Okay, we tried it, it failed . . . Please, one more chance . . . I'm not going to give you one more chance . . . I'm going to go [expletive] something up on purpose".

Although I really love Tidal, you can tell there is more confidence and variety throughout When the Pawn… The album seems bolder and more memorable. If Tidal’s standout cut was the edgier Criminal, the suaver and waltz-like Paper Bag is the key example of When the Pawn…’s brilliance.

When reviewing the album, Pitchfork made some very keen observations:

“I went crazy again today,” she sings in “Paper Bag,” the Grammy-nominated single that may be the most fondly remembered track on When the Pawn. It’s Broadway meets the Beatles in its triumphal horn blasts, but as the melody grows ever bouncier, the words increasingly counter that levity with disappointment. The lyric starts out all stars and daydreams and doves of hope, before dispelling those pop song illusions to reveal the grim reality that the man Apple desires sees her as “a mess he don’t wanna clean up.” She’s never had trouble laughing at herself, and “Paper Bag” hinges on a sly reference to her own solipsism—“He said ‘It’s all in your head’/And I said ‘So’s everything’/But he didn’t get it”—that drags the singer and an uncomprehending public at once.

The song is emblematic of an album that broadened Apple’s fragile, mercurial image not just with self-awareness, but also by expanding her sound beyond the jazzy, beat-backed piano ballads of Tidal. When the Pawn’s producer Jon Brion (whose baroque arrangements had recently created context for the dateless, scene-less voices of Rufus Wainwright and Aimee Mann) intuited that her style was distinctive enough to absorb other elements without losing cohesion. Still, even in his own estimation, he tends to get an outsized share of the credit for the record’s innovations. In a conversation with Performing Songwriter, Brion clarified that its unusual rhythms—namely, the time-signature shifts in “Fast as You Can”—originated with Apple’s songwriting. “In terms of the color changes, I am coordinating all of those,” he said. “But the rhythms are absolutely Fiona’s”.

There are great interviews from 1999, where Apple talks about her creative process and the freedom she gets from the videos. I think the visual aspect is one of the most striking aspects of her work. They are so eye-catching, nuanced and arresting that one cannot help but come back time and time again! If you can find interviews online and get the time, I recommend you do – as there are not that many print ones from that period. It is clear music, to Apple, was a way of getting something out; her creative activity is a chance to tackle her confusions and feelings – one can say that about most songwriters, I guess. There is a lot more confidence and positivity on When the Pawn…; Tidal is a little angrier, I think, and there seems to be blame cast (either on others or herself). Perhaps there was greater collaboration on her second album; critics picked up on that change. Many expected a third album to follow fairly soon after When the Pawn… arrived. Given the momentum and demands, it was not going to happen in a year or so – the third album did not come until 2005. Produced by Jon Brion, it was due for release in 2003 but there were numerous delays. There is no real explanation why: leaked recordings emerged and, given the delays, there was unrest from the fans.

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Maybe the earlier recordings were not satisfactory or there were demands from Epic Records that could not be met. In any case, Extraordinary Machine had a troubled start. This 2005 article from The New Yorker shed more light:

Apple’s decision to re-record her third album was hardly remarkable; artists tinker with their tracks all the time. But the rough mixes that she produced with Brion were leaked anonymously on the Internet, where they were widely circulated, putting fans in the unusual situation of being able to choose between two versions of the same record. (In its published form, “Extraordinary Machine” features two recordings from Brion’s original production, nine re-recordings, and one new song, “Parting Gift.”) In fact, the differences matter less than you might think. The songs from Apple’s collaboration with Brion sound as though they were being played on a calliope inside a merry-go-round. Elizondo and Kehew’s arrangements are more bass-heavy and less whimsical. But, whichever version you end up preferring, Apple is in charge: the songs follow her around like a boat on a towline.

Sony is releasing the album this week, and, as Apple has made clear in interviews, she, not the label, was responsible for the delay. (Not satisfied with the results of her collaboration with Jon Brion, who produced her second album, known as “When the Pawn”—the actual title is ninety words long—Apple re-recorded most of the songs with Mike Elizondo, a bassist who played on “When the Pawn,” and Brian Kehew, a producer.) Apple’s insistence on control should not come as a surprise to close listeners of her work. Apple, who is twenty-eight, is as musically sure-footed as she is emotionally labile. “Extraordinary Machine” is the confident extension of a rich and original musical language that she has been carefully fashioning for the past decade”.

Despite the delays, setbacks and challenges, Extraordinary Machine is another remarkable album that, yet again, finds Apple moving in new directions. This review from AllMusic is full of praise:

Now, Extraordinary Machine sounds like a brighter, streamlined version of When the Pawn, lacking the idiosyncratic arrangement and instrumentation of that record, yet retaining the artiness of the songs themselves. Like her second record, this album is not immediate; it takes time for the songs to sink in, to let the melodies unfold, and decode her laborious words (she still has the unfortunate tendency to overwrite: "A voice once stentorian is now again/Meek and muffled"). Unlike the Brion-produced sessions, peeling away the layers on Extraordinary Machine is not hard work, since it not only has a welcoming veneer, but there are plenty of things that capture the imagination upon first listen -- the pulsating piano on "Get Him Back," the moodiness of "O' Sailor," the coiled bluesy "Better Version of Me," the quiet intensity of the breakup saga "Window," the insistent chorus on "Please Please Please" -- which gives listeners a reason to return and invest time in the album. And once they do go back for repeated listens, Extraordinary Machine becomes as rewarding, if not quite as distinctive, as When the Pawn. Nevertheless, this is neither a return to the sultry, searching balladeering of Tidal, nor a record that will bring her closer to tasteful, classy Norah Jones territory, thereby making her a more commercial artist again. Extraordinary Machine may be more accessible, but it remains an art-pop album in its attitude, intent, and presentation -- it's just that the presentation is cleaner, making her attitude appealing and her intent easier to ascertain, and that's what makes this final, finished Extraordinary Machine something pretty close to extraordinary”.

Again, after a gap before Extraordinary Machine, we had to wait until 2012 for Fiona Apple’s fourth album. The Idler Wheel… (not its full title, but it would take me a while to type it all out!), is, perhaps, Apple’s most challenging and full work. She incorporated elements of her previous records and added new ideas. I am a big fan of the album and, when listening, one is dazzled by the lyrics, music and vocals. Apple creates her own world and, in terms of songwriting, there is nobody like her. When speaking with Matt Diehl in 2012, she was asked about her ideas and lyrics:

DIEHL: I’ve heard you say that your songs always start with a phrase. Was there a phrase that launched the creative process for The Idler Wheel . . . ?

APPLE: Hmm . . . I think the first phrase that I wrote off of for this album was at the beginning of the song “Left Alone.” I wanted to use the phrase “moribund slut,” which led me to use the phrase “orotund mutt.”

DIEHL: There are some really evocative lyrics on this album. Where does the imagery in the title come from?

APPLE: For years now, in many of my notebooks, there would always be something about an idler wheel. I like the idea of the idler wheel—it just sits in between things, but it makes such a big difference in the way that the machine is working. That concept has always been something that has interested me, but I didn’t really know why. Now I feel like it connects with feeling everything because I’ve gone through a lot of attacking things in my life—like, “There’s a problem here, I have to do something about this,” or “I’m not useful unless I’m doing some kind of job.”

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PHOTO CREDIT: Sebastian Kim for Interview Magazine

It’s to the point where I feel like I’m not really a full human. I used to feel like, “I’m not a functional person because I don’t go on lunch dates with friends. I hear about people having dinner parties but I never do that. I’m not really human.” But if I were to imagine myself as an idler wheel inside some big mix of gears, then I would be connected to everything. It’s not like there’s just me and then nothing. This is going to make me sound kind of flaky, but I’m like “Hands Across America” with the moon right now. I feel like I am connected to even the farthest-reaching part of the universe—as is everybody.

DIEHL: Well, when you experience the kind of success that you did so early, people kind of wonder if you can—or will—follow a certain path.

APPLE: I get that, yeah, but, you know, I have no idea if this album sounds different, or doesn’t fit with the ones from before. I don’t have any idea of how either I am really perceived or the music that I make is really perceived. I color it all with my own perception anyway.

DIEHL: There is that line in “Every Single Night” where you actually say, “I just want to feel everything.”

APPLE: Yes. It connects to the name of the record, which I have no idea if anybody can make sense of. I don’t know if it would make any sense to me”.

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PHOTO CREDIT: Sebastian Kim for Interview Magazine

Here is a typical review for The Idler Wheel… that proves, sixteen years after her debut, Fiona Apple was able to turn head and surprise:

 “Though the outside nature of these sounds is initially somewhat jarring in the more expected context of Apple’s piano and voice, they quickly insinuate themselves into the melody, becoming the skeletal framework upon which Apple and co-producer/percussionist Charley Drayton build spare, occasionally catchy, usually melancholy melodies. (After all, as Apple sings, somewhat cheekily, on the outro of “Werewolf,” “Nothin’ wrong when a song ends in a minor key.”) Even pre-recorded and looped, these sampled elements feel organic and spontaneous, the result of human experience rather than knob-twiddling. Like everything Apple does, the album’s production feels compulsive, not calculated.

Compulsion is a fitting lens through which to view both Apple and The Idler Wheel…. Like the intermediary gear for which the record is named, Apple seems to spin in her own fixed state, doing the only thing she knows how to do without regard for whatever outcome it may produce. Yet in doing so, she creates an immense amount of energy. She reflects action rather than directing it; as she repeats over and over on “Every Single Night,” she just wants to feel everything. The beauty of The Idler Wheel… is how it transmits each of those feelings in excruciating, frank, and lovely detail. 

Again, when we think about Fiona Apple, there are gaps between albums. I like that fact because, today, there is so much pressure on artists to put out stuff to remain relevant and capitalise on demand.

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 PHOTO CREDIT: Kevin Hayes for Vulture

Now that so much material is streamed, I feel artists rush releases so that they can get something out there. Fiona Apple is the perfect example of someone who takes her time and makes music that matters to her. She allows enough time to pass before recording; experiences to come and inspiration to hit. She is so involved and committed to the music…this shows in every track. I opened by mentioning some recent rumblings. Apple, it seems, is working on material and there is whisper of something in 2020. She rarely provides interviews, but I want to conclude with one she recently gave with Vulture - one she requested herself:

How do you keep up with what people are saying about you? Are you lurking online?

Other people tell me. I’m not online. I don’t have Twitter. I do search things, like when I searched the Hustlers thing … to see what people are talking about. That’s how I found you.

You famously wrote “Criminal” in 45 minutes at age 17, after the record label asked for a single. What does the song mean to you as an adult?

Right now the song itself, the lyrics, those don’t really mean anything to me. The way it started, the video, all the crap I got — using this song now, and using it in this movie for a purpose I believe in, is like reclaiming it. I’m not that scared girl in underwear anymore. The song isn’t that to me anymore. It’s my way of paying for things that I want to get done.

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PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images 

What does your life look like right now?

Well, it is music now, because I’m finishing a record. But that’s all, like, me in my house, and I’m in control of everything. So I don’t have to be getting other people’s ideas of what I should be doing yet.

You’ve always been good at that — controlling your own narrative. How did you develop that power?

I don’t even think it’s a power. I do think I’ve always had it. It’s honestly a direct result of me never getting people’s phone numbers and never getting chummy with a lot of people. So then people don’t think of me to call up and badger to come out and do stuff. So I never go out and do stuff, because it’s never expected. My family hasn’t seen me at Christmas celebrations for years and years. So I just don’t get invited anymore. [Laughs.] I mean, that’s an exaggeration.

I assumed in the beginning I could do whatever I want. If you’re just doing that from the beginning, and don’t have any doubt about it, then that’s how it goes. I had no idea I was setting my own narrative by not acting a certain way or taking anybody’s advice.

In that life, does it make its way to you that you’re something of an icon for your refusal to conform to certain ideas about womanhood? Are you aware of it, and does that get internalized for you?

Hearing you say that … I like the sound of that. I will choose to believe that. I’d like to internalize that. That would be great.

When you do leave your house, what’s your relationship like with fame, with your fans? Do you interact with them, do they approach you?

I don’t get approached a lot. I’m not around people enough for it to be a thing. I haven’t noticed anybody notice me in [a long time] … but when I’m out with people, sometimes they’ll notice me getting noticed. Anytime anyone talks to me, they’re always really nice. Way back at the beginning, I was thinking I could put out a CD and I’d make all of these friends, and I wouldn’t know them but they’d know me, so that when I met them I could just say hello and we’d already be friends — I think it actually came true in a way. Not that I’m actually friends with everyone I meet. But if you’re intimate with my music, you’re intimate with me and I’m intimate with you. I feel like you’re my friend. Maybe that’s a little bit too childlike, but I do feel like that.

I do think Fiona Apple, in years to come, will be considered an icon. Right now, she is among the most original and fascinating songwriters in the world. She is so separate from the commercial and the routine; an artist who marches to the beat of her own drum; someone who wants the music to connect and mean something. I think Apple is someone who can be understood and loved by anyone, regardless of your tastes and preferences. I am looking forward to hearing new material and, as we all wait, there are four magnificent albums in the world already. Take a listen, lose yourself and embrace an artist who is…

UTTERLY sensational.