Fiona Apple’s out of hiding and back in the spot light with her long awaited album Extraordinary Machine, which was released October 2005.
It’s been five long years since we have heard from Apple after her release of When the Pawn Shop.
In 2003 rumors of another project surfaced, but were shot down by her record label, Sony. Apple went back into the recording studio until she reappeared with an extraordinary album that has caught the public eye along with very positive attention from critics.
The singer/songwriter recently made an appearance at the 48th Annual Grammy’s, where she was nominated for Best Pop Vocal Album this year. She seemed reserved, but answered questions shyly. It was one of her first public appearances since the MTV Video Music awards where she won Best New Female Artist and delivered the shocking “this world is bullshit” speech at the podium.
Extraordinary Machine was well worth the wait and it is as brilliant and mind blowing as Tidal and When the Pawn Shop. She has matured on many levels, especially musically.
It seems as though she has learned to cope with fame and the public eye and pour all of her emotion into her music.
Her range is yet again redefined.
There is definite experimentation with the piano, which has been a love of hers since she was 8, that creates haunting melodies that linger long after the track is silent. Each track differs from the other and the album serves as a collage of her many moods.
The album sings of new hope compared to the angst driven somber songs of Tidal and When the Pawn Shop, which she did well.
The title track “Extraordinary Machine” is proof of this “If there was a better way to go then it would find me, I can’t help it the road just rolls out behind me, be kind to me or treat me mean, I’ll make the most of it I’m an extraordinary machine.” Apple has a way with tailoring words to sound like they were meant for her alone.
Her single “O Sailor” offers a visually simulating video, which is set on an old battle ship with a shiny helm and has sailors dancing to her hypnotic voice.
Shots of her concerned face belting, “And after waiting, fighting patiently on my knees, all the other stuff tired itself out first, not me, and in its wake appeared the touch and call of a different breed, one of the steps is getting wise and got me there and then got me” can be seen from the other side of a rain-covered window.
I have a feeling it will not be another five years before we hear from her again.

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