Pitchfork

If you're particularly web savvy, you may have seen the previous version of this review up on the site before its replacement with the edition you're reading right now. Here's the story: I crafted the original to be my most ambitious yet-- epic in scope, embellished with the richest prose I could possibly summon. But alas, the powers that be were not, as they say, feeling it, and sent me back to the drawing board to craft a review less eccentric and more crowd-friendly. Or actually, maybe I had second thoughts about the original review myself, choosing to self-regulate and take a mulligan. I don't know, it's very confusing; but know that all this vacillation was never for publicity's sake, no, never that.

So I can empathize with Fiona Apple, who has gone through a similarly arduous journey on the road to releasing her first album in six years. Earlier this year, Extraordinary Machine appeared destined for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot status, as the nearly-finished album Apple made with longtime collaborator Jon Brion was shelved, then surreptitiously leaked to the world's music thieves. But rather than graciously accepting a starring role in Fuck the Man Rock N' Roll Myth #67, Apple did a do-over, this time working with Mike Elizondo, best known as right-hand man to the good Dr. Dre.

Unfortunately for Apple and Elizondo, that Brion version isn't going away quietly. And now, upon the release of the official retail version, it only makes sense to compare the two-- a sort of musical Pepsi challenge-- given that they share 11 of 12 songs. The differences are far from subtle: For all but two songs, the title track and "Waltz (Better Than Fine)", Elizondo overhauled the original takes-- or maybe underhauled is the more appropriate term in this case, given the addition-by-subtraction philosophy applied throughout.

Apple is a songwriter who can turn every relationship hiccup into a calamitous tragedy, and Brion fittingly applied his production talents with the intent of blowing up her songs to 2.35:1 aspect ratio. On "Not About Love" and "O' Sailor", Brion scored Apple's compositions no less extravagantly than his soundtracking work for the indie-film elite, applying dollops of lush orchestration to place her piano and throwback vocals in an epic frame. Though the material wasn't always Apple's best-- "Oh Well" and "Window" in particular, sounding a bit through-the-motions-- the symphonic presentation kept it interesting and gave the LP a cohesive flavor.

Elizondo's approach is more eclectic: Rather than applying copious amounts of strings, he employs bits of organ, backwards loops, and busier drumming to flesh out Fiona's sound. But the fleshing out is kept skeletal, so as not to distract from the central elements of Apple's voice and piano. Though the Brion version was likely unmastered, it's still striking how much the emphasis has shifted from a broader sound to Apple's contributions alone, like demos in reverse. You can also pour a 40 out for fallen countermelodies, as Elizondo hacks away Brion's embellishments upon "Not About Love" and "Window" in his efforts to keep the spotlight fixed solely on the star.

Not to say that there aren't moments where Elizondo either improves or offers a valid alternative to the Brion takes, as "Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song)" remakes the routine "Used to Love Him" with twitchy synth-bass and "Oh Well" benefits from a stronger vocal take. The dreamy "O' Sailor", meanwhile, refuses to be ruined, though the new version knocks the original out of its cosmic moody-blue orbit by insultingly replacing actual strings with the synthesized variety. Not so tamper-proof are the triplets "Red Red Red" and "Please Please Please", the former losing most of its drama thanks to a dull ambient backdrop, the latter ironically softening its single-ready punch on what's supposed to be the more traditionally commercial album.

The officially released version of Extraordinary Machine remains a decent-to-good album, one that showcases Apple's considerable vocal and key-pounding talents. In its new clothes, the album fits alongside her prior two albums, with only the slightly less consistent material bringing it down a peg. The shame of it all is that Apple, after six years of silence, could've made a more definitive, progressive statement rather than something familiar and similar-- and we've got the bootlegs to prove it.