Apple's bittersweet taste

By ANDREW OLDS
Music Editor

Fiona Apple has girl power. She sings her own songs. She writes her own music. While it was the Spice Girls who popularized the phrase, it is Apple who lives it. Her peers may be making flimsy de-mands written by others of their lovers, but on When The Pawn, it is Apple who is in control of her relationships.

Following a recent line of female artists such as Jewel and Sarah McLachlan who are rooted in confessional pop, Apple broke waves in 1996 with her seemingly perfect debut, Tidal. Equipped with a low, intense voice that recalled a young Cher, the album spawned a number of singles and a great deal of attention. The young talent hit many potholes along the path to success, most notably her acceptance speech at the MTV music awards. She was hailed as immature, an image her lovesick lyrics on Tidal reinforced.

After nearly four years, it appears that the ugly duckling is beginning to transform into a swan. On When The Pawn, Apple has begun making demands of her lovers, throwing away her previous reliance on them. Her songwriting has also awakened - her song structures have gotten more imaginative as she has learned to express emotion with her music.

One of the main complaints of Tidal was Apple's strange dependence on her lovers. On the shining star of her first album "Criminal" she clamored, I need to be redeemed / to the one I have sinned against. On her sophomore effort, Fiona Apple begins showing signs of independence. She greets potential suitors with a snarl, warning on "Fast As You Can," I may be soft in your palm but I'll soon grow. On "Get Gone," Apple kicks out a lover who has used her.

There are still moments where Apple's idyllic view of love comes through, such as the tender "Love Ridden," but most of the album is stained with scorn. Still, Apple the poet has room to grow. Every song on When The Pawn is devoted to love and relationships, a subject area that begins to get exhausted on the album. Though she stays clear of adages that doom other writers, she doesn't consistently add depth to her raw feelings of love, hate or betrayal.

As a musician, Apple is the rare talent that is praised both for her vocal skills and her musicianship. The artistic flaws of Tidal were masked by the pop sensibility of Apple's seductive voice. It remains the foundation of When The Pawn, as she constructs emotions with the guile of a diva. Her jazzy instrumentals are neatly placed throughout the album, adding flair to many of her ballads.

Though not nearly as daring as it could be, When The Pawn does display musical diversity that was missing on her debut. Apple's voice complements her first dour song structure for "A Mistake," while the shuffling piano of "Limp" and "Fast As You Can" adds spice to her normally melancholic ballads.

The new musical diversity adds an artistic quality to the album, but Apple is still at her best in the simple ballad format. "Paper Bag," a gorgeously constructed number about a boy who got away, swims through numerous pop hooks as her wispy voice drives the sound to completion. Despite all of her foibles, "Paper Bag" is a reminder to listeners how hopelessly young and romantic Apple is underneath.

Apple has begun ripening on When The Pawn. With a supple voice and dynamic piano skills, Apple's musical ability was never doubted. Her sophomore effort indicates that her writing skills are beginning to match her raw talent.

Alive and kicking

Poets find their best work in subject matter that is closest to the heart. For Ed Kowalczyk, God is on his mind and in his heart, and the resulting masterpiece is Live's The Distance To Here.

As the head songwriter of the band's fourth al-bum, the talented Live front man is focused on his search for God. Like the apostle Luke, Kowalczyk is certain he has found what he is looking for and is eager to relate the story. What separates Kowalczyk from the crowd is his ability to relate the story without selling God a la Scott Stapp of Creed. Filled with symbolism and scholarly references, Kowalczyk's words ring more profound than Zach de la Rocha's rants on oppression.

Musically, Live has progressed little from the forceful ballads of Throwing Copper. Guitarist Chad Taylor and bassist Patrick Dahlheimer continue to lay down neat melodies that may be generic in nature but are played with distinction. The lack of improvement though is entirely forgivable, as their smooth melodies do not distract from Kowalczyk's poetry.

Few songwriters are able to gracefully narrate the peaks and valleys of a relationship. By hitting one of the hardest subject matters, Live has hit the mark with The Distance To Here.
-Andrew Olds | Music Editor

If Lou Barlow had a nickel for every song he wrote, he'd be a millionaire by now. Barlow, lead singer of the Folk Implo-sion, as well as Sebadoh and former singer for Di-nosaur, Jr., and a couple other bands here and there, has to be one of the most prolific songwriters of recent times.

While quantity usually doesn't mean quality, it does in Barlow's case. One Part Lullaby, the Folk Implosions' latest project, features simple yet engaging songs, mostly penned by Barlow. The duo of Barlow and multi-instrumentalist Joe Primeau is most well known for "Natural One," which appeared on the "Kids" movie soundtrack, and is the band's only hit to date.

One Part Lullaby excels at being minimal. Barlow's almost-monotone vocals draw the listener in and simple beats Primeau provides carry the songs along. The use of a drum machine gives One Part Lullaby a trip-hop feel but is much too sparse to be fully categorized in the genre. The range of instruments used, from harps to garbage can lids to cookie sheets, keeps each song interesting, despite all the songs having similar tempos and structures.

A solid album that highlights Barlow's songwriting talent as well as Primeau's instrumentation skill, The Folk Implosion's One Part Lullaby, albeit simplistic and plain, will keep any listener entertained.

- Ian Young | Asst. Div. Editor

Copyright 1999 by the Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.
This article was published in Vol. 138, No. 54 (Tuesday, November 16, 1999), beginning on page 7 and ending on page 8.