“Fetch The Bolt Cutters” Fiona Apple Music Review

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You never forget the first artist that truly shakes you to your core as a teenager – the figure that makes you want to simultaneously rebel and set things on fire, cry, fall in love, and completely embrace the feeling of mutual understanding of experience. In my case, that occurred when I listened to Fiona Apple’s discography. At my most dramatic, chaotic learning moments, Apple was there, jam-packing syllables into verses of songs that seemed to perfectly describe the range of emotions – utterly specific yet open to interpretation for each individual’s listening experience. As you move through Apple’s discography, you grow with her. Starting in her teenage years with debut album Tidal, we see Fiona never understood by a partner in “never is a promise,” to the disappointment that comes with impractical yearning in “paper bag.” Apple was precocious – outspoken about her trauma when such a thing was more frowned up- becoming the ultimate poster artist for controversy and misperception. 

In the opening lines of Apple’s 2020 album Fetch The Bolt Cutters, she completely lays everything out onto the table, and has no time or room for anything but total, unabashed authenticity. She quite literally states “‘I’ve waited many years, every print I left upon the track, has led me here” – “here” is the freedom to lyrically, and sonically escape from any sort of oppressive structure. In an interview with Vulture, Apple sums up its purpose – “fetch the fucking bolt cutters and get yourself out of the situation you’re in.” Released at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, there is perhaps no better time to explore themes of freedom from social imprisonment. Such themes of imprisonment include complicated relationships to ex- partners, childhood friends and bullies, specifically analyzing toxic masculinity and female relationships. Apple is no stranger to turning to the pain of real life, but with Fetch the Bolt Cutters, rawness implodes in both sound and lyricism. Using her voice as her primary instrument to demonstrate loudness, Apple takes us through the ache and grotesque of every day interactions. Politically and socially, it could not be a more relevant era to quite literally “cut through” the artifice of gendered, pop music tropes. In Apple’s debut album, the magical moments occurred when she was young and figuring things out. In other words, she was learning her beliefs, uncomfortability, but often wouldn’t act upon them. This unfolded in her narratives specifically about romantic relationships, describing toxic moments (of course, ones we loved to hear about to support our own pains.) Arguably, Apple is doing something radically different here. Fetch the Bolt Cutters might be the most grounded in her intentions, outspoken, and intolerant of bullshit that we have ever seen her. 

While it is a common tactic in pop to focus on accessible melody and a crafted, polished lyric, Fetch the Bolt Cutters expands the template of songwriting to include every last syllable Fiona chooses to say. Almost similar to a free write journal exercise or a witty broadway musical composition, Apple accommodates every “felt” aspect of a story, with twists and turns at every corner – we are apart of this journey of true lyrical vulnerability. This notion is beautifully summarized in opening track “I Want You to Love Me” – Apple “know(s) none of this will matter in the long run, but I know a sound is still a sound around no one.” In other words, she is completely present in this moment of sharing herself, and she demands to be validated for it. It is ultimately the perfect opening for the solitary, quarantined listener like many of us- frustrated, and in need of attention and understanding. 

Apple’s second track “Shameika” faces an uncommon yet relevant theme for a female artist – the complexities of friendships with other women. She frames this by pulling from childhood experience, reflecting on the words from a middle school peer that forever molded both security and insecurity – “Shameika said I had potential.” “Shameika’s” storytelling aspect sets up a lyrical and sound pattern for the entirety of Fetch the Bolt Cutters, where each track serves to reveal abrupt emotional changes in a ballad form. In the title track, “Fetch the Bolt Cutters,” Apple continues in her expose, calling out “wannabes” who have “stolen her fun.” This track is well representative of Apple’s core sonic and lyrical plan for the album. The quick changes between sonic oddities and gentle, classic jazz sound are the moments in which Fiona works best. Lyrically, she acknowledges her strong desire to find her power in loud, unpolished moments, while softly admitting phrases like “I haven’t found my voice yet/ i only hear the noise people make when they don’t know shit/ but i didn’t know that yet.” Apple has always felt like an artist in true embrace of rebellion and rejection of status quo, but perhaps these lyrics show the past and both present journey to her self discovery. In other words, Apple discusses the obstacles in speaking one’s truth. While Apple’s past discography is built on this notion of rawness, Fetch The Bolt Cutters goes deeper here to initiate a new truth – it is a painful and chaotic life to ground oneself in realness. Apple references such “realness” in every facet possible, whether it be navigating romantic or platonic relationships, or perhaps even the music industry (who she refers to as the “cool kids” who tried to get rid of her long ago). In particular Fiona fashion, she finds the humorous frustration in specific everyday moments of a relationship, referenced in “Under The Table”. The song describes a dinner party with someone she is in a relationship with, where she is “mansplained” by a “prominent figure of a streaming service.” This narrative may not describe a completely formative moment in her relationship, in the style of many a break up song, but rather provides a lens into the ways toxic masculinity seeps into daily life, and simply stating that she “won’t shut up” about it.  She describes being constantly interrupted, in the form of lines such as ““I called the guy out. And may have messed the dinner up a little bit. But I was right.” There is no space for traditional refined, “catchy” lyrics here – Apple is simply recounting a story in full sentences as it would be in a non-musical reflection. “Under the Table” is straightforward sonically, repeating the same chords to not take away from the dialogue. At this moment, Apple turns to “Relay” and “Rack of His,” serving as the most traditional break-up songs on the album. Sonically, “Relay” may be the most pop melody based track, as she employs drums, percussion, stomping and clapping to keep an upbeat pace. She is speaking to an ex and his new partner, leading each line of the catchy chorus with the phrase “I resent you for __.” These lines are reminiscent of classic Fiona fashion, lyrically unafraid to both embrace and reject positive feelings for a painful situation. She validates any immature or mature desire, such as the tendency to “outdo” one’s ex in a “relay race.” “Relay” is an ode to a metaphor she often utilizes in love songs, comparing relationships to a sport or game, such as in 1996 track “Shadowboxer.” In “Rack of His,” Apple again creates an interesting metaphor, where her lover’s rack of guitars serves as a symbol of masculinity. Additionally, it implies the misogynistic nature of their relationship with the male used word “rack,” commonly used to describe a woman’s breasts. It is the ultimate “Fuck you” to the male rock world, simultaneously describing an embodiment of a classic, male archetype. Apple drives it even further by acknowledging her love and desire for him still, and how such a desire has rid her of her own identity, noting how she couldn’t even make music or reflect upon the situation while she was in love with him. This style of writing is what makes her a poster of melancholic reflection; she may be steadfast in her anti-misogynistic beliefs, but still honestly reflects on how heterosexual dynamics affect her. “Rack of his” is an excellent depiction of such a dichotomy, where she is completely honest that a relationship can make her vulnerable to change. 

Perhaps one of Apple’s most striking tracks is “For Her,” a rage-filled depiction of an abusive relationship written in the aftermath of the Brett Kavanaugh Supreme Court hearings. “For Her” is not something we hear in popular music everyday (in its unabashed boldness to depict an assault), but such lyrical bravery is not new for Apple. Arguably a pioneer for being outspoken in the music business in the last three decades, Apple employs Robin James’ notion of melancholic expression. In lyrical description of controversial topics such as abuse, mental illness, assault, and more, Apple’s narrative is not one of positive resilience – she completely deep dives into the treacherous, grotesque nature of what it means to be a woman in today’s landscape. In other words, melancholic expression tells it like it is. To cite James, artists like apple are not focused on a “Look, I overcame!” story. Instead, tracks such as “for her” use language such as “Good morning/you raped me in the bed your daughter was born in” in an effort to speak critical truth. In speaking to Vulture Mag, Apple stated that the track started as something cathartic to her own experience, but rather opened up to include a greater net of a friends’ experience to further the importance of this expression. As James notes, an artists’ expression is an act of resilience perhaps – while never stating resilience itself lyrically. 

Apple’s track “Newspaper” employs similar methods to face a systemic abuse issue. “Newspaper” is arguably the most on target with James idea of melancholic expression – Apple admits to the pain and shame that come with conflicting feelings towards one abuser, to the undecided nature of helping another woman whose abuse she fears for. Lyrically, it is the most conflicted and least steadfast we see the “I” character in Fetch the Bolt Cutters. James notes that melancholia is “the failure to accomplish the resilient labor expected.” (James 153) Apple ultimately succeeds in this failure on Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Thus her tracks cut the deepest, and ache and linger the most in the emotionally unhealed parts of us, and with each listen personally bringing me back to the first time I found out music could do such a thing.