Fiona Apple: Patron Saint of Prophetic Women

‘Fetch the Bolt Cutters’ is the companion to our quarantined existence.
Epic Records

FIONA APPLE’S 2020 internet takeover began the moment she released her newest album, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, in April. This cyber movement was not orchestrated by Apple, who does not have any social media accounts, but rather by the countless women tweeting, Instagramming, and exulting over the album. I probably have the algorithm to thank for the prevalence of these posts in my feed, as they were mostly from my demographic—millennial women with overflowing collections of books and high-waisted pants. Yet, algorithm or no, the joy I witnessed was completely organic, and if you’ve heard the album, you’ll understand why.

Many people’s introduction to Fiona Apple is not her strong, eclectic body of work. Instead, it’s her infamous speech at the 1997 MTV Video Music Awards in which she exhorts viewers, especially adolescents, not to model their lives after “what we think is cool.” After that, Apple seemed to vanish from the public eye, emerging every so often with an absurdly long album title that tied bundles of complicated songs together.

I’m beating around the bush with the word “complicated.” What I really mean is “angry.” Fiona Apple is one of the few women in music who is allowed to be furious in an unpretty way. She has become a secular patron saint for prophetic women whose insight makes them vulnerable to the ridicule of others.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters, all jangly DIY percussion, layered vocals, and sharp turns of phrase (just listen to “For Her”—I won’t spoil it here), feels like the perfect companion to life as a woman, but also, strangely enough, to our quarantined existence. It is a missive from someone who has spent a good deal of time with herself, taking her pain apart while trying not to let it break her. Most importantly, it’s an album that is trying to heal women’s relationships with one another. In “Ladies,” Apple generously addresses her ex’s new girlfriend, suggesting she help herself to whatever Apple has left in the cabinets. On the titular track, Apple sings, “A girl can roll her eyes at me and kill,” which perfectly sums up the fraught relationships so many of us women have with our female counterparts. But, imagine, Apple seems to say, if we saw each other as collaborators, victims of the same systems instead of competition.

Something else happens in “Fetch the Bolt Cutters”: Apple almost chants, “I need to run up that hill,” and I’m immediately reminded of Kate Bush’s incredible track, “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God).” What does it mean to place yourself in a lineage when we live in a world that is dominated by a virus we haven’t seen before? What use is history? A whole lot, it turns out. Remembering where we’ve come from and who has gone before us is perhaps the only way to puzzle out of our current predicaments. Perhaps then we’ll be free of the structures that keep us at each other’s throats. Once that happens, it’ll be time to fetch the—you know the rest.

This appears in the August 2020 issue of Sojourners