#444: Fiona Apple, ‘Extraordinary Machine’
EPIC, 2005
Hello music nerds/fans/listeners(?),
Writing about this album really brings me back to listening to Sinead O’Connor earlier. Both are abused women who have suffered in front of the camera. Between eating disorders and mental illness, they were mocked by popular society when they spoke out about the hypocrisy of fame. Fiona’s big moment was in 1997 at the MTV Video Music Awards when she accepted her award for Best New Artist In A Video and then told everyone off for caring and trying to match the unrealistic expectations set in Hollywood. Then she was ridiculed, called a complainer and spoiled.
Fiona Apple's Acceptance Speech at the 1997 Video Music Awards | MTV
When I think about Fiona Apple, I think about how iconic her 90s style was. She showed us how to be cute grunge girls with her thrifted clothes and punk energies. I also think about her body, though. I’ve been trained by countless magazines and talk show appearances to think about her body. Fiona Apple was famous for her pouty face full of strong emotive features and the fact that she had this huge singing voice coming out of a tiny body, a very skinny, little body.
Fiona was part of that 90s look: heroin chic, a trend named for looking like a heroin addict with dark circles under the eyes, and no trace of fat.
Yes, obviously some people are naturally built like this (hello, Kiera Knightley) but there is a very large sector of women who bought into the 90s diet culture to achieve this. And just like all trends, this one seems to be coming back. Kim Kardashian, ever the canary in the coal mine when it comes to toxic trends, loudly and proudly told the world she lost 16 pounds in 3 weeks to fit into the Marilyn Monroe dress for the 2022 Met Gala. She continued losing weight after the Met Gala and is now trying to stop losing weight. Khloe Kardashian’s weight transformation has taught us that booties, hips and round cheeks on the face are out and thin is in. Heroin chic is quickly bleeding back into the forefront of how we now literally measure our beauty.
What is wild is that so much of the trend in the 90s and early aughts stemmed from commoners (like myself) seeing really famous people and not understanding that a lot of these really famous skinny people were survivors of intense abuse and addiction. We were watching trauma on our television screens and thinking that it was a trend. Now, 23 years later, we have the privilege of hearing the truth about these dangerously low BMIs from people like the Olsen twins, Courtney Love, Kate Moss, Sinead O’Connor and even Debra Messing.
Fiona Apple said that she stopped eating in order to make herself smaller, to make her body less appealing to predators after she had been raped by a stranger outside her apartment. Music became her language in order to communicate what was going on in her soul.
Just like for Sinead, music was both an asset and a liability. It gave her an outlet, a voice and a world to interact with safely but it also thrust her into fame and public scrutiny – things that rattled her sensitive soul and alienated her from pop culture. Yet, it is her sensitivity that makes her music so singular to herself and also wonderful.
It is interesting that this is the album of hers that was chosen for this top 500 list. What is special about this particular album is that it feels like this is the intersection of when she started reclaiming her body and her voice. This album starts with “Extraordinary Machine” which she explained to Jimmy Kimmel as a metaphor for herself, a machine able to turn bad things into wonderful experiences and outcomes.
Then the album continues showing her vocal range, and her brilliance in lyrics (which Kanye West credited her as being one of the best lyricists of all time). This album is a reminder that Fiona Apple is strong, she is powerful and she is a healer unto herself. She is an extraordinary machine.
Of course, she is going to be okay. I am going to be okay too. You, too, I guess.
Love,
Nicolle