Wednesday, July 11, 2012

She's Back.

 image via NME
Fiona.  Fiona.  Fiona. 

I am beguiled.  I am smitten.  I am jealous.  I am in awe. 

Let’s pretend that it hasn’t been two months since I last posted because all I want to talk about is the greatest concert I went to last night.  Yes.  The greatest concert I went to last night.  I know. 

I had never seen Fiona Apple live, but always considered myself a fan.  Her new album (can we call it a comeback? what constitutes a comeback?) was just as great as I had hoped and I was beyond pumped for the concert.  Unsurprisingly, she was late to her own party.  I‘m not the most savvy of concert-goers, but almost two hours post-start time seems a bit dramatic to me.  I was annoyed; thinking of the Tuesday night and early alarm in the morning.  (Yes.  I am now THAT person.)  But then she showed up.  Levitated onto stage (not really) and all was forgiven.

Dear God.  She is the weirdest person I don’t know.  She moved in the most insane ways and I could not get enough of it.  My mouth was agape.  I couldn’t peel my eyes from the stage. 

I surprisingly sang every word, as if I had lived my life specifically for this moment.  Who knew I remembered all those lyrics?  Lord knows I barely know the last thing that came out of my own mouth much less someone else’s thoughts from years ago.  But I did.  And I made everyone else around me uncomfortable by singing along.  I couldn’t help it!  (I wasn't the only one, I promise.) Transfixed by her bizarre elbows and knees and throaty screams I moved in sequence in my seat; a drone of a bleeding heart. 

I don’t know how many times she ended up on the floor.  Straight.up.hands.and.knees.on.the.floor.  It was amazing.  Awe inspiring.  And embarrassing all at the same time.

She said only four words other than singing and I don’t even know what they were besides a shrill “GOOD NIGHT” at the end of her encore (a cover which blew everyone away).  I hate when artists don’t talk in concerts, but her performance was so raw and strange and unlike her recorded versions I didn’t care. 

I would pay to see it seven more times.


That’s the number I decided upon.

Fiona.  Fiona.  Fiona.

RUN.  Don’t walk if she’s coming your way.

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