How We Can Relate to Fiona Apple's The Idler Wheel...: A Broken-Heart Masterpiece
I lost a very close friend recently.
My friend isn't dead, thank God; we have parted ways after months of tumult, crossed wires, broken boundaries, and finally, dangerous indifference. In short, things got too heavy to maintain for both of us. Coping with the absence of that friendship feels like a loss: I've been grieving, and when you grieve a loss, you often wonder what the hell you could've done differently had you another last chance to make things right. I've never lost a friend I've been this close with before, and in some ways, it feels like a break-up, but much worse.
The Idler Wheel... explores all of these feelings I'm experiencing with such a rich, stinging intensity that tears flow as I write this. Most of these songs feel like they were written for me, and maybe y'all can relate.
I mean, darlings, have you ever pushed someone away who tried his or her best to be good to you? Because of an unbreakable wall or trust issues or what-have-you? Enter "Jonathan," an account of an ex-boyfriend who treated her right (author and Bored to Death creator Jonathan Ames, if you're nasty). The lyrics deal with unwillingness to let someone in close: "Just tolerate my little fists tugging at your forest chest." The song has organic factory sounds churning against the piano's chugging melancholy melody, suggesting that this relationship was one Fiona reveres and regrets.
Speaking of regret, "Regret" finds our girl bellowing a hook like never before to a disrespectful lover: "I ran out of white dove feathers/ To soak up the hot piss that comes from your mouth/ Every time you address me." (UGH. Like, who can't relate to that?) And that's juxtaposed with a firm accusation: "You taught me to be mean." (We all know what that's like.) The most powerful thing about this song for me isn't just the words, though; it's the machine-like clattering that sounds like teeth grinding, or gears literally turning in the brain. It's like holding your tongue in the middle of a fight, but everything in you says to restrain yourself until you just can't anymore. It's on the verge of self-destruction. An aside: this song feels like a sequel to ultra-spare first single "Every Single Night," where "every single night's a fight" with Fiona's brain because she "just wants to feel everything." See that sci-fi tinged clip below:
