The album should come with a drinking game, like one DVD edition of Showgirls did. It already shares a number of qualities with a drunk person. It repeats itself often, the same stock phrases popping up in song after song. It swings from lively, upbeat teasing to sad, torpid moans, and it’s usually the latter that’s tedious. (Some of the torch songs in the middle, like “Million Dollar Man,” are a handy reminder that Fiona Apple will be releasing new music this year, and it’ll be much better at this sort of thing.) And it stumbles, often. One critic compared it to “a drunk chick at the bar trying to convince someone to come home with her,” and maybe that’s true — maybe she tries to whisper a come-on and hiccups in someone’s ear instead, or attempts a seductive pose and winds up falling over.
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