Liberated masterpiece
If you flicked through the radio dial in 1996, chances are you would have heard it all coming back to Celine Dion. You might have caught The Fugees Killing Me Softly, or the peppy debut from that new band Spice Girls.
In between, and sticking out like a sore thumb, you might have heard a clear, commanding baritone confess, ‘‘I’ve been a bad, bad girl’’.
Fiona Apple stood out from the get go. Comfortable with being complex, her wildly evocative music has often crossed into uncomfortable territory. She wants you to look into dark places. She wants you to rage against the machine.
Just as America was gearing up to adopt her into their elite, she famously cancelled celebrity culture in her MTV Awards speech. ‘‘I’m not going to do this like everyone else does it,’’ she said. She’s stayed true to her word.
Holding back isn’t really in her repertoire and Fetch the Bolt Cutters pulls no punches. The explicit honesty begins with I Want You to Love Me ,a cosmic realisation of meaninglessness. Confronting the fact that her particles will eventually ‘‘disband and disperse’’, she accepts her earthly tether, admitting ‘‘while I’m in this body, I want somebody to want’’.
It’s a typically elliptical Fiona Apple turn of phrase. Later, at a dinner party she didn’t want to go to, as she’s being kicked under the table by her partner, she pointedly states, ‘‘I would beg to disagree, but begging disagrees with me.’’
As with all her albums, the production and arrangements are sharp. Recorded in her Venice Beach home, you occasionally hear dogs yipping from under her piano, or perhaps they’re over there by the upright bass among the chaotic percussion.
It’s a perfect 10 across the board for Bolt Cutters. It’s her finest work, a liberated masterpiece. Get some.
They say never judge a book by its cover. I almost did with DJ Python. What a silly thing to call yourself. His latest record however, is spellbinding.
Mas Amable plays like one long song, a meditative journey that draws you ever deeper into its hypnotic rhythm. Set at one tempo, this is a reggaeton beat slowed down to a smooth, dependable groove. It doesn’t sound like it should work, but it does.
Instrumental except for its psychedelic centrepiece ADMSDP, where poet LA Warman guides you to your safe place, this album was built for isolation. Simple, repetitive, crisp and clear, this is the most addictive thing I’ve heard all year.