Album Review: Fetch the Bolt Cutters
Browsing Fiona Apple’s Reddit page, it’s clear that even her most dedicated fans have had their expectations knocked out of the park for her new record. Beyond its virality, which spurned thousands of new format memes and generated much social media buzz, Apple’s latest release also scored well among the industry’s (debatable) most culturally relevant music critics, between Pitchfork, Metacritic, and Anthony Fantano. As much as Apple has knocked expectations out of the ballpark, and, consequently, the women and queers of the world off of their feet, “Fetch the Bolt Cutters” is, sonically, a natural and obvious progression in Apple’s ever-evolving musicianship.
This percussive iteration of Fiona has always been around, if only in fleeting moments and slips from her previous projects. On her debut Tidal, released way back in 1996, it’s almost like she’s forewarning us of this. In “The First Taste,” her crooning of “Let it begin,” could very well be a description of the unpredictable magic of a newfound intimacy. Simultaneously, these lines could be in reference to the naivety of Fiona’s reaction to stardom, a recurring theme in her music. Above all, they are a reference to the metaphorical toe in the pond that is the depths of her lyricism. With “Fetch the Bolt Cutters,” 24 years later, we are finally diving in.
“Evil is a relay sport when the one who’s burned turns to pass the torch.” - Relay
Image via Zelda Hallman’s Instagram
Apple’s voice is the percussive force driving this machine of a record. Sometimes it manifests in a rhythmic, jazzy almost rap-like tempo, as in the refrain to “Relay.” Songs like “Newspaper,” are built on the harmonies and percussion of Apple’s own body.
This is not to say that Apple doesn’t make ample use of the instruments at her disposal. Several tracks feature a prominent piano and bass riffs, if minimal. There’s a virtuosic inspiration in the discordant keys complementation to the music of her smokers rasp in the song, “Shameika.”
"I would beg to disagree, but begging disagrees with me." - Under the Table
Image via King Princess’ Instagram
Other times, her voice leans into a satirical, coquettish rasp. This style of vocalizing is most apparent in the gem of the album, “Rack of His,” which lies in the middle of Apple’s lyrical puzzle.
There’s a special DIY touch to this record, which was made from the comfort of Fiona’s home studio. On some tracks, we can hear her dog and album cover model Mercy bark in the background. We hear Fiona stumble over the lyrics she’s penned herself. Songs like “Rack of His” put this grungy sound on center stage. There is something between the fuzzy echo of Fiona over low quality speakers and the suspended drums. Its in the ghoulish jingle of the tambourines and bells in “Heavy Balloon,” a catchy mantra against the haunting spectre of depression and mental illness on everyday life. It’s a scolding of today’s bedroom pop kids. This is the touch.
Cosmonauts
Image via
Apple lays her bones bare in a way that feels more raw than in her previous works. In a string of press done in advance of the album, Apple shared extensive details of her lyrics’ deeper meanings. Ever the tease, though, not every single line can be deciphered. In past years, it feels like there has been an over-obsession as to the who’s, what’s, and why’s of Fiona Apple’s lyrical content. After all, she is a poet by nature. But it stands to argue that her male peers are never subject to the same level of critical, bordering on psycho-analysis. There is something refreshing about the way Fiona names her demons now. She has (metaphorically, of course) come out of isolation and is ready to exorcise the bad men, sexual harassment, and toxic relationships to women in her life.
Apple is the point of origin of the wailing women: without her and the likes of Tori Amos, Cat Power, Regina Spektor, and Kim Deal, there would be no Angel Olsen, Marina & The Diamonds, Waxahatchee, Lizzie Grant, and the list goes on. In this, I find comfort. There is a certain reassurance in knowing that Fiona Apple has been up that hill, and is now standing in its shadow on the other side.
“I grew up in the shoes they told me I could fill,
shoes that were not made for running up that hill. And I need to run up that hill.” - Fetch The Bolt Cutters
Image via
Apple strays far from her baroque roots, and sonically this album is diametrically opposed to her more well-known sophomore work, When The Pawn…. And while some (a minority) of her long term fans may not be able to indulge in this new and written according to her own rules Fiona, all must admit that, if anything, this record is a testament to the artist’s range.
Cover image via
