Happy 20th Anniversary to Fiona Apple’s second studio album When The Pawn Hits The Conflicts He Thinks Like A King What He Knows Throws The Blows When He Goes To The Fight And He'll Win The Whole Thing 'Fore He Enters The Ring There's No Body To Batter When Your Mind Is Your Might So When You Go Solo, You Hold Your Own Hand And Remember That Depth Is The Greatest Of Heights And If You Know Where You Stand, Then You Know Where To Land And If You Fall It Won't Matter, Cuz You'll Know That You're Right, originally released November 9, 1999.
I was introduced to Fiona Apple at 35,000 feet. On a long haul flight somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, I had my headphones plugged into one of the Qantas inflight radio programs. It was a bit of a habit of mine, to listen for one cycle to see what music I maybe wasn’t exposed to or aware of. And here, as my flight cut its ways through the clouds, I was jolted in my seat by the sonic turbulence of Ms. Apple’s panicked and urgent “Fast As You Can.”
What was this?
Who was this?
With its skipping beat and jagged piano, I sat transfixed as Apple’s growling, borderline threatening vocal delivery filled my ears. There was an honesty present in this self-assessment of self-destructive tendencies and a warning to a lover—things won’t always be so peachy and whilst “it’s so sweet / you think how crazy I am,” it’s best to “free yourself / fast as you can.” With a mix of moods and time signatures, I listened entranced to every passing bar, hanging on every word. And when it was done, I longed for more.
Now, it should be noted that in 2000 when I was taking this trip, inflight entertainment wasn’t the endless choices of movies and music offered up today. And the concept of a thousands of songs in your pocket via iPod was still a year away from reality. So there I sat waiting to hear this siren song once more. And so I waited. And waited. The full hour for the program on its endless loop to cycle back around. I noted how long in fact it took so that hourly I could tune back in and get my fix.
No sooner had we landed and I was in search of the album and artist that spawned such a gem.
I was aware of Fiona Apple, well somewhat aware. Her debut album Tidal (1996) didn’t make its way into my collection, and her breakthrough hit “Criminal” played on my periphery. I was aware of the music video (wasn’t everyone?) and the song itself, but it didn’t get me over.
So here I was discovering an artist a few years after her big breakthrough courtesy of her sophomore outing—which I find, in general, more emblematic of the kind of musician and artist that said artist wants to be.
And here was Fiona Apple coming off a debut hit high, answering her critics (quite literally with the poem response to SPIN readers’ exclamations that she was obnoxious and arrogant that formed the albums lengthy title) and charting her own course counter to the desires of a record label somewhat unsure what to make of her.
With musician/producer Jon Brion in her corner, Apple delivered an album that confronts the murky truth of love and relationships, the glorious highs and the heartbreaking lows, as well as a journey of discovery and the hidden sides slowly revealed as the newness of a relationship gives way to the realities of its existence.
Apple’s songwriting prowess is front and center throughout “When The Pawn…,” with many sessions recorded with her at the piano as the starting point. Then with that firmly drawn sketch, Brion would embellish and accent the details with his own multi-instrumentalist skills and those of a key group of musicians. The result elevates Apple’s performance, solidifying them without overshadowing them. It also gives the album a sonic consistency, like you are sitting in on one session rather than a sporadic collection of performances.
Opening with “On The Bound,” the music is stalking, almost foreboding as Apple growls, “You’re All I Need” in a spiraling overture to acceptance and taking a leap of faith and trying, at best, to surrender to the anxiety inducing power of love. There’s a maturity and complexity at work in the arrangements on the album that reward the listener.
Themes range from impassioned longing for acceptance (“To Your Love”), codependency and abusive relationships (the strikingly bold “Limp” with its own comeuppance), relationships with expiration dates (the delicately haunting “Love Ridden”), the letdown of belief and hope (the lyrical twist held in “Paper Bag”), resignation (“The Way Things Are”), and the clarity when things are all said and done (“Get Gone”).
The power of the album is in the off-kilter arrangements and zig-zagging melodies that thread through each song. They keep you a little on edge as Apple owns and exorcises her emotional demons with pure candor. It can be brash. It can be confronting. It can be alarming. But it is always engaging.
She’s doing things on her own accord and embracing them. Her honesty is never to paint herself as victim or as hero, never to self-aggrandize. Instead she presents the emotions and complexity of her position in a way that offers access and empathy, and even an occasional wry smile. Her lyrics are like diary scrawlings, presenting what many may think but dare not say.
She’s also maturing and pushing against the expectations laid at her feet. She won’t be tarred and feathered by others, or have her caricature be a paint by numbers for the critics. As she owns in the alluring “A Mistake,” she is more than happy to “do another detour / unpave my path.”
And that she does. With gusto. It’s what makes When The Pawn… such a compelling listen. One worth returning to often.
LISTEN: