9/10
Favorite Track: "Rack Of His" Least Favorite Track: "For Her"
I couldn’t truly be talking about Fiona Apple’s 5th studio effort, Fetch The Bolt Cutters, if I didn’t acknowledge the maddening critical acclaim this record received upon its release. Garnering over 15 perfect scores from critics, including Pitchfork’s first in 10 years, this record shook the music industry in a way that few others have done in recent history. All critical acclaim aside, however, this record is something truly special in its own right. The abrasive and sometimes deafening mental picture Fetch The Bolt Cutters paints for its listeners is made even more powerful with every deliberate detail, nearly every single aspect of the album seeming meticulously placed to signify a woman at the peak of her anger at the world and the people around her. Simplified, Fetch The Bolt Cutters is a terrifyingly dark but cynically sweet look into Fiona Apple’s troubled and deeply intriguing psyche.
Fiona Apple’s songwriting, while dark at its core, shows a lot of the same cheeky cynicism that I find so enthralling in one of my favorite albums, Father John Misty’s Pure Comedy. However, likening Fetch The Bolt Cutters to any album before it is no easy feat, as it has some of the most original ideas I have heard in my lifetime. Fiona’s wavering vocal delivery screams pure madness on tracks like “Heavy Balloon” and “Newspaper” but this madness is accentuated by the subtle isolation I feel from the home-baked percussion. Fiona discusses many mental health topics on this record, and it almost feels as if it follows the narrative of a single mental episode, with the clanging pots and pans and wonky percussion adding a sense of seclusion to the album, effectively separating it from similar pop contenders.
For an album so dark in subject matter though, Fiona comes through with plenty of earwoms as well. The track “Shameika” is a wonderfully narrated cut about someone getting through to Fiona in her time of need. The calls of “Shameika said I had potential” followed by a triplet blast of piano every chorus is surprisingly grabbing, and it definitely makes for the most catchy song about bullying I’ve ever heard. The title track, which is much more lowkey and subtle, features a wonderful vocal delivery from Fiona. I love her whispered calls of “Fetch the bolt cutters/I’ve been in here too long”. They act as a wonderful ode to not only being stuck in her head, but also the current times of quarantine and isolation in 2020.
The places where this record undoubtedly shines the most is in the abstract portions. Moments where Fiona adds a subtle musical detail to accentuate her vocals or lyricism are littered throughout the project, and as a listener, this makes revisiting this album a joy. I have listened to it five times and still feel as though I will come across something new and interesting for the next five. As I mentioned before, the themes of isolation and confinement are made even stronger by the heavy instrumental utilization of day-to-day oddities around Fiona’s house. At the end of the title track, Fiona’s vocals sink into a soft madness, while dogs throughout her house bark and whine, which really tops off the feeling of being stuck in one place, almost being trapped in the music with the abrasive and loud barks and howls.
Fetch The Bolt Cutters is a depiction of a woman at her most deeply conflicted, trying her best to dig her way out of the trenches she has seemingly found herself falling into again and again, but being pushed back down by everyone she needs help from. The petrifyingly dark topics contrasted with the quirky and bright instrumentation is an intoxicating combination of music, and I truly admire Fiona for having the courage and strength to put these topics forth into the world, especially on an album that feels as if it could easily be heard by millions. It is innovatively challenging in its complexion, but in an environment deliberately engineered to feel like home. In a way, it is a record beyond critique. In its own subject matter it demands to be heard, but insists that what you think is not a factor of how important the message itself is, and I believe I have heard the message enough for it to be important to me. You should too.