Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Fetch the Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple

An Album Review from Fiona Apple Bird

(Content Warning: Mention of domestic violence)

After eight years without a sound, Fiona Apple arose from the ashes of the music industry with a glowing treasure for all of us. Fetch the Bolt Cutters came out last April and it is, for the purpose of this heavily biased review, the best album of 2020. Fiona Apple has always been sort of mythical to me; our names are similar in more ways than one, but that was never enough to convince 5-year old Fiona Bird, who was always sort of freaked out by her music, into liking her. Now that I am 17 and a well-travelled music consumer, Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters does not scare me and consists of some of my life anthems.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters is possibly the most honest conglomeration of sound and lyrics that exists in the world. Perfectly displayed in “For Her,” the album is angry and confrontational without being accusatory to the listener. Apple takes us through a series of relationships, between her and her abuser, her drumset, an old classmate named Shameika, to show us what love holds up and what love should be snipped off with bolt cutters. This album presents a wide cast of characters: school house bullies, sororal women, a begrudging floor mat, and a constantly-perpetuated idea of “The Man,” all of whom guide the listener to the people in their lives who really matter. (Who would’ve known I needed a conversation with my drumset rug in order to finally get stuff done.) Apple’s casting of this album is a salute to her younger self, a celebration of women, an acknowledgement of ordinary objects to fill the void of past relationships and, most importantly, an ode to Apple herself.

Just like its stories, the soundscape of this album is too complex to pass by. Fetch the Bolt Cutters is characterized by a percussive cohesion that has me picturing Apple in her kitchen hitting a bunch of pots and pans without discipline. Although the album seems at first heavy on percussion and vocals and less focused on ambient noise, a closer listen will reveal some of the most euphonious and rich chords: buried treasure for the ears. (Shoutout to 1:42-1:43 of “Cosmonauts,” which wins as my favorite half-measure of a song ever.) The aural ambience takes the listener out of the recording studio and into the unique realm of each song: plummeting through the stratosphere of “Cosmonauts,” ducking amongst fancy shoes and dripping wine in “Under the Table,” laughing with barking dogs in “Fetch the Bolt Cutters,” and walking the windy, chaotic sidewalk in “Shameika.” This constant bassline of movement, walking, running, marching forward, is the heart of the album, starting in the Shamieka-sidewalks, repeating incessantly in “Relay,” and continuing even beyond the final track, appropriately titled “On I Go.”

Fetch the Bolt Cutters tells the listener that love is something more than long-term monogamy, it is what you accumulate through the little things in your life that make it what it is. Most importantly, Apple tells us that that love will most easily come from within ourselves.

So, if you need a reason to love yourself, go give Fetch the Bolt Cutters a listen. Just don’t play the title track around your pets or they might freak out.