Fiona Apple At Jones Beach

When considering Fiona Apple one can’t help but to view her performance in the context of her strange career and image.



I first became aware of Fiona from the sexually provocative music videos from her first album. Her image then was of a distraught and vulnerable young woman who combined intelligence with promiscuity. Her first two hits were tense rockers full of anger for love gone wrong. When I heard the full album I was surprised to find it full of sulky girl on piano ballads that were OK, but nothing really special. It left me with the impression of a woman with a true artist’s sensibility, but had yet to reach her full potential.







When her second album came out it contained one upbeat single with some brilliantly phrased lyrics, but the rest of the album bordered on mediocrity, leaving one to wonder if she night never fulfill the potential her first album suggested.



Her image was further affected by her mental instability, of which she spoke openly of in interviews. It seemed every time she opened her mouth in public it was a disaster. He speech when winning a Grammy award was enough to make on cringe as she tried to be self-deprecating by saying “This is so stupid that I’m up here,” but somehow came off as sounding arrogant. Watching it one couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for her discomfort.



Then during her second tour she had a complete meltdown at a concert at the Roseland Ballroom in New York City. It started when she couldn’t hear her onstage monitor and walked off the stage crying. Only to return a few minutes later to curse out the press in the audience saying, “I’ll kill you if you fuckin’ screw me,” then collapse in a corner sobbing.



This latter disaster I blame on greedy music industry people. Fiona was signed to her first recording contract at age fifteen and by seventeen was playing large concert venues without ever having paid dues by playing in small clubs where broken sound systems are a nightly occurrence.



After that Fiona disappeared for a few years. Then the story began to circulate that she had recorded an avant-pop masterpiece but her record label was refusing to release it. Soon tracks from the unreleased disc began to show upon the Internet. Then fans began to protest in from of her labels office in New York demanding the CD be released.



Finally when Extraordinary Machine was released it was clear Fiona had fulfilled her potential. The CD was filled with witty lyrics, Beatlesque melodies, and unique structures and compositions. It was a quirky avant garde masterpiece that sounded as if George Martin and the Dust Brothers had collaborated on the production.



With this back-story trailing behind her Fiona took the stage at Jones Beach. Jones Beach is an outdoor amphitheater whose stage actually sits over the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. A cool ocean breeze blew across the audience and spats of rain moistened the buoyant crowd.



Fiona band consisted of two keyboard players, bass and drums. Apparently feeling no need for a guitar player. That in itself a brave choice in the rock era. Throughout the night Fiona went back and forth between sitting hidden behind a grand piano and standing frail and vulnerable looking at a center stage microphone. Dressed in a frumpy purple dress she seemed to be avoiding the provocative sexual image she portrayed in her early videos.



Her performance expressed angry passion. Her face often drooped with sorrow or contorted with expressions of pain. Beneath the grand piano her legs flapped wildly and her knees banged together as the emotion in her voice rose and fell. Her voice was rawer and rougher than on her recordings, but still able to subtlety and the fast vibrato that helps define her vocal style.



When center stage she often jerked spasmodically or knelt on the floor like a wounded animal. During instrumental breaks she danced in the shadows in a manner that was a hybrid of hippie-chick freak out and voodoo possession.



In a live setting it became clear how unique her songwriting compositions truly are. The keyboard players regularly employed the strange sounds of a 1960’s instrument called the Mellotron. Often shifting between askew melodies and explosions of noise. At times the rhythmic shifts were so dramatic it was startling. At other times the grooves were built on frenetic tribal rhythms merged with techno drum-loop intensity.



One of Fiona’s strongest assets are her lyrics which are intelligent, sarcastic and pathos filled, and usually set to sophisticated meters rarely heard in popular music. This likely thanks to her penchant for reading serious poets such as Maya Angelou.



At one point in the evening Fiona proclaimed her love for her step father who was in the audience, “He started dating my mom when I was four and he introduced me to the Beatles and the guitar and other great music, and he stayed around for almost twenty years.”



Then lifting he right fist into the air she yelled, “Here’s to a real man!”



Later in the night while seated behind the piano she said, “I haven’t had much luck finding real men in my own life…but it’s been interesting.”



Then seeming to falter she began hitting herself on the head saying “Shut up Fiona! Shut up Fiona!”



Then she whispered under her breath, “Christ why do I have to justify everything.”



One might assume that by now Fiona understands that her fans her instability is part of her theater and legend, but still one senses that she is a genuine artist. The truth in her lyrics, the struggle of intensity and vulnerability in her performance, all attests to this. While the pop stage is filled with performers posing as struggling artists, at least for the time being Fiona appears to be the real thing.