“I can really hold a grudge,” Fiona Apple confesses after she completed one of her emotional, minor-key masteries. Winding herself up, Fiona summoned up a spiral of emotion and attached it to each song. The show included all the greats from your personal wish-list, covering all three albums equally. Ms. Apple fluttered around as if she had tiny wings attempting to pull her off the stage, only to be grounded by the microphone cord.
Otherwise she was sitting on her bench, striking piano keys with deliberate movements. The lights were dim and the music was hauntingly dark. Her tiny eyes would glisten and hook your stare as she would vocally bathe the crowd. Every word and sound was sultry, and lured wet with desire. The music followed the original recording framework, only to be enhanced by fresh adaptations.
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