Fiona Apple is a sinewy piece of sweet meat with a husky voice and giant eyes. Fond of gin-soaked, speak-easy art-jazz, she made the unfortunate decision to become a recording artist of this type of music before she learned how to sing more than two notes. The two notes she could sing were lower than the piano's lowest note, so she also learned that instrument to make up for her incredible lack of vocal range. She is also bat shit nuts.
Apple was born in therapy. The doctor took one look at her and declared, "This one needs help" and referred her parents to a good psychiatrist. She was born into a relatively well-off entertainment industry family, so her mental health was doomed from the start.
Apple is beautiful and sexy if you like twigs with cookie-monster eyeballs and lips made of whale fat. Her sultry voice booms out like a vacuum THIS ARTICLE SUCKS FUCKING ASS. cleaner with a failing motor, rounding out both of the notes she manages to squeeze out of her stick-figure gut with an odd combination of desperate urgency and mental-case paranoia.
She tops off her tuneless, jazz-bludgeoned caterwauling with piano keyboard pounding to match, making her "edgy".
Though she is an unmitigated loon, she has carried her instability well throughout her career, incorporating it into her mystique. It was a key factor, for example, in her baffling decision to use acclaimed half-sasquatch comic Zach Galifianakis in her video for the song "Not About Love".
Because Apple does not care whether or not people want to know how completely hatstand she is, deep down, she douses her lyrics with overly personal inner conflict that embarrasses and disturbs, which again makes her "edgy".
For instance, from the song Sullen Girl:
I wander the halls
Along the walls and
Under my breath
I say to myself
I need fuel
OK, WTF? She wanders up and down the halls, muttering to herself that she needs fuel. Yes. And that's when the men in white coats with the happy needles show up and bring her back to her little room.
First release: Tidal, 1996. Includes the hits "Criminal" and "Sleep to Dream" and a deceptive close-up cover photo that makes her seem almost attractive.
Second release: due to space constraints on the host server, this album title cannot be listed, 1999. We told you she is as mad as a bag of geese. She forgot to stop titling this album, so by press time, they just said "fuck it" and added three dots to the end of it. The title is a rambling, insane work of terrible epic stream-of-consciousness poetry that would worry you if you were her mother.
Third release: Extraordinary Machine, 2005. Somehow this record was Apple's highest-charting release, even though no one has ever heard any of the songs from it. Before it was released, her bat-shit
terrorists fans occupied the offices of Sony Music Entertainment carrying "Free Fiona" signs, thinking the company was holding it hostage for some reason. Given the added publicity, Producer Jon Brion someone leaked the unreleased album. It was so good that Sony had Apple re-record it and release an inferior version, much to the dismay of Jon Brion many of her fans.