Fiona apple fetch the bolt cutters windows#

It garnered rave reviews, from Pitchfork’s extremely rare perfect 10 rating to a nonstop stream of accolades on Twitter, tweet after tweet thanking Apple for giving the world something to focus on that wasn’t the pandemic.Īnd yet, it’s hard not to feel like this album was made for this time, particularly in the way that it’s grounded in Apple’s house-literally, in the syncopated percussion of banged-on walls and stomped-on floors-but also in how it’s rooted in the idea of finding freedom after a lifetime of restraint.

Fiona apple fetch the bolt cutters windows#

Within minutes of its official release, at midnight on April 17, Fetch the Bolt Cutters was seemingly everywhere-wafting from open windows and through the floorboards of neighboring apartments. Apple hadn’t done an interview in seven years, not since the release of her last album, The Idler Wheel…, after which she promptly disappeared. It was the very end of June, officially summer, but Los Angeles was masked in a gray gloom that felt like a kind of purgatory, a suspension. Or at least it was the first time I visited, in the middle of last year, a few months after a video clip of the 42-year-old singer-songwriter began circulating on social media, alerting fans to the fact that she was working on new material-but long before a global pandemic would force so many of us into our own homes.īack then, she’d warned me via text that there would be two dogs-big ones-adding that if that made me nervous her housemate, filmmaker Zelda Hallman, could take them to the park before our interview. The dog signals someone’s arrival better than any doorbell can-which is good, because Apple’s doorbell is broken.

A heavy, locked door leads into a riotous walled garden, filled with the barks of her rescue pitbull-mix, Mercy. Her almost-century-old Craftsman bungalow sits on an otherwise unassuming Venice, California street.