"I hate living by the hospital
The sirens go all night
I used to joke that if they woke you up
Somebody better be dying
Sick of the questions I keep asking you
They make you live in the past
But I can count on you to tell me the truth
When you've been drinking and you're wearing a mask"
2. Phoebe Bridgers | Punisher
2871.835 Points | 39 Votes
Critics' List: 2
AMF Top 300 Songs: Kyoto (#1), I Know the End (#2), Garden Song (#44), Graceland Too (#98), Savior Complex (#99), ICU (#178), Chinese Satellite (#248), Moon Song (#297)
Biggest Fan(s): Craig, JohnnyBGoode, schaefer.tk (#1), Chambord, Chris K., Jirin (#2), andyd1010, BleuPanda, LunarPiper (#3), kendon, M24, SL3 (#4), acroamor, cetamol, Edre Peraza, FrankLotion, panam, sonofsamiam (#5), Nassim (#6), Future Critic, prosecutorgodot, SafetyCat, whuntva (#7), Holden, Wezzo (#8), Gillingham (#9), slick (#11), Listyguy, Nick, notbrianeno (#13), Matski (#15), styrofoamboots (#17)
"We now live in a world that gets scarier and more fucked up year on year. But if there is one thing we can be thankful for, it’s that people are much more open and honest than they’ve ever been, and are now being actively encouraged to speak their minds and express the troubling things in their lives as a means of catharsis to improve mental health and well-being. Perhaps this ethos has had a knock on effect to 21st century contemporary folk music, which feels more evolved and involved than ever before. We have Sufjan Stevens revisiting sad childhood memories, Bon Iver comprehending heartache out in a woodland cabin, Mount Eerie coming to terms with the death of his wife, and Mark Kozelek trying to make sense of the death of… Well damn, it seems like everyone in his life is dying tragically… But the point being, indie folk is a genre of music that really involves the listener, allowing the artists to share something deeply personal with them. Bridgers may even be alluding to this herself with the immortal chorus, “I feel like I know you, but we never met” – A sentiment the listener can easily reflect back to the artist.
Enter the midst of a global pandemic and Californian newcomer Phoebe Bridgers drops a sophomore album so raw, genuine, direct and loaded with feelings, that it becomes that massive cuddle that we’ve been craving. Even with Punisher dominating our stereo since release date, there is still this otherworldly quality that we just can’t quite explain when it comes to Phoebe Bridgers. Her voice is so distinct and smooth, yet fragile, with songs that are accessible and with so much depth, it’s genuinely a struggle to fully explain exactly why this record is so affecting, but every track really speaks for itself. From the slow shuffle of ‘Garden Song’ to the apocalyptic trumpet blasts and frenzied screams that close ‘I Know The End’, every song here is well defined and memorable. The explosive guitar driven ‘Kyoto’ and ‘Chinese Satellite’ are the perfect antitheses to the low-key melancholy of the title track, which takes melodic cues from The Goo Goo Dolls’ ‘Iris’, and the brittle ‘Halloween’ that lets Bridgers’ voice gently soar over what sounds like a warped music box melody. But arguably the most cutting song is ‘Moon Song’; a simplistic, lightly strummed three-chord wonder with a chorus that never emerges. Bridgers’ lyrics are half-sung, half-whispered almost like she is recalling a dream wrapped in sadness and longing; “I’m dreaming that you’re singing on my birthday / And I’ve never seen you smiling so big” and “You might be dying / But you’re holding me like water in your hands” are enough to make you well up and could leave a lump in your throat.
Thinking about Punisher on a deeper level, it feels like it could be a spiritual successor to a beloved album we consider a classic, Bright Eyes’ 2005 masterpiece I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning – And it’s no coincidence that Bright Eyes’ mastermind Conor Oberst is credited in the liner notes of both of Bridgers’ albums. The structural similarities are there, with Bright Eyes’ merging elements of alt-country, indie folk and alternative rock into one sphere. The male and female vocal duets, the juxtaposition of bombastic trumpet laden songs like ‘Another Travellin’ Song’ with bare ballads such as ‘Lua’ and ‘Poison Oak’, which sounds like Oberst is playing solo with an acoustic guitar right in your living room. Both albums even use a bird as a lyrical motif that tie together multiple songs. Hell, I’m Wide Awake ends with manic screams, squawking trumpets and thundering guitars too! And though it could be possible that Bridgers has been inspired by those blueprints, she manages to transcend and make an album equally as astonishing but done in her own commanding way.
Of course, you can hear her other influences too; the double tracked vocal takes popularised by Elliott Smith, and Sun Kil Moon’s diary-like lyrical honesty (Bridgers finished her debut album with a remarkable cover of Kozelek’s ‘You Missed My Heart’). But whilst this album is playing, all of those comparisons melt away. Punisher becomes more than an album listening experience and feels like one of those great deep conversations with someone you care deeply about at 3am, and your throat is sore from a drunken night’s combination of singing, shouting, laughing and crying. We’re not going to stand here and tell you that Phoebe Bridgers is the most original or groundbreaking musician out there, but she has made a subtle and nuanced modern masterpiece, one that reveals further depths with each listen to become one of the most pure and moving records of recent times.
-frenchie"
I didn't smile, because a smile always seemed rehearsed...
"And I've been used so many times
I've learned to use myself in kind
I try to drum, I try to write
I can't do either well but
Oh well, that's fine, I guess
'Cause I know how to spend my time"
1. Fiona Apple | Fetch the Bolt Cutters
3341.460 Points | 41 Votes
Critics' List: 1
AMF Top 300 Songs: Shameika (#5), I Want You to Love Me (#10), Heavy Balloon (#20), Cosmonauts (#29), Under the Table (#33), Newspaper (#81), For Her (#125), Relay (#153), Ladies (#240), Fetch the Bolt Cutters (#249), On I Go (#289)
Biggest Fan(s): BleuPanda, Brad, Chris K., Cold Butterfly, FrankLotion, Jackson, Jirin, Listyguy, LunarPiper, M24, Matski, phil, Rocky Raccoon, whunvta (#1), acroamor, andyd1010, Dan, Nick (#2), cetamol, Gillingham, notbrianeno, panam, sonofsamiam (#3), Chambord, Craig, Holden (#4), Father2TheMan (#8), Future Critic, SL3 (#10), bonnielaurel (#12), schaefer.tk, slick (#12), Nassim, nicolas (#13), JohnnyBGoode (#18)
"Given the extensive waits between her releases, I had only ever heard tell of Fiona Apple, her name heard whispered among some of the art pop greats I have idolised my whole life - Björk, Kate Bush et al. The lack of big hits, however, and me hitting my KB phase after the release of The Idler Wheel... had prevented me from ever biting the apple if you pardon the awful metaphor. With the release of Fetch The Bolt Cutters, I had an opportunity to finally give her a go and I dived right in.
...and I hated it. My first few listens to FTBC, perhaps frustrated at all my friends and every media outlet and the whole of twitter hailing it as the second coming of Christ, I couldn't find a single redeeming quality. Why would anyone listen to these abrasive pianos, barely produced beats and voice that most of the time doesn't even pretend to be carrying a tune.
Reader, these exacts things I hated are now the things I love.
More so than any other record I have heard thus far in my life, on FTBC Fiona Apple harnesses the power of sound to transmit every ounce of emotion she has. The songs are rarely pretty (although the chorus on Drumset; the piano work on opener I Want You To Love Me , and the dense layers of harmonies on For Her) but are hyper charged with feeling.
Take for example Shameika, the stand out of the record. The piano line is frantic and anarchic, feeling as though it could cave in on itself at any moment; the drums are twitchy and ever so slightly syncopated; the vocal line goes from straight-forward narration to impassioned screams and back again. It really shouldn't work, yet somehow the combination of all the elements drags you right into the moment, seeing and feeling exactly how Apple saw and felt.
Similar feats are pulled off all over the record to staggering effect - Cosmonauts's descent from a fairly traditional pop song structure into a cacophony of vocalisations only to finish with a single hummed melody; the near absence of melodic instrumentation yet inclusion of dog barks on Newspaper; the primal chanting of closer On I Go.
In this sense it really does feel like an event of an album - a mythic songwriter and performer emerges from her layer to provide us with a record stuffed with more ideas than some artists manage over their entire careers. Its true impact remains to be seen in the months and years to come, but certainly 7 months on from its release Fiona Apple still has me hanging from every dog bark, piano stab and door slam on this incredible achievement of a record.
-maximilian_bd"
