New York City, NY - FEB 29.00

  Set list:

 1. On the Bound
 2. To Your Love
 3. Criminal
 4. Limp
 5. Sullen Girl
 6. Paper Bag
 7. Get Gone
 8. Love Ridden
 9. Sleep To Dream
10. Carrion

Click on the logo below to hear the latest from the venue!

 

REVIEWS:

 

From April:

Well, it's been quite a day... firstly meeting fiona again was nice except that a ton of autograph dealers and territorial fans pushed everyone around when she came. they basically backed fiona into a corner to make sure she'd sign, it was kinda rude to her. 

roseland is general admission, so i got there at 11:30am to secure a good space inside, i met up with my friend jim (he was there since 9:30am) and the time went relatively well chatting with fans and friends (hi ari, hi danielle!)

David and Nanikita are very cool and calm people. it was a pleasure to meet them and the treasure book looks amazing!

let me just tell you that i hate general admission shows and i don't like roseland. i've seen a myriad of people at roseland and it's usually not too great of a venue overall. general admission is very frustrating and it's hard to have any space. so you d.c. and san fran show people good luck!

at 9:20pm fiona and one of the guest (a comedienne) walked out on staged and joked around for a few minutes. fiona said that "tonight was her night and she was going to make it her show." she seemed pretty happen, then they introduced J5 and they did their 30 minutes pretty well. they were entertaining for what they did. 

one of the guest was jimmy falon from SNL and he played some parody songs about troll dolls. it was cute.

then at about 10:30pm fiona came on stage with the band and they went into on the bound and to your love. she started to then complain about audio problems, and how she couldn't hear herself sing. 

she a bit later said this "all you fucking reporters better not write bad review about me for this and if you do i'll fucking kill you." that is a quote from fi. she was quite frustrated.

the 10th song she did was carrion and she started to cry during it and stopped it in the middles and did it again. she kept crying and her stage presence was suffering by her audio problems. all through the night she was complaining about the problems and apologizing to us, and she said that she "wasn't doing her service" to us. she then said she was going to leave the stage and take 5 minutes to re-group. about 20 minutes later her manager and assistant came out and announced that she didn't want to continue with the show. her manager then said they would reschedule a show for us in NYC in the future so keep our ticket stubs.

overall, i was saddened to see fiona so hurt tonight. but she genuinely felt bad with the quality of the show she was giving us. i personally thought the show was going well and that she amplified the problem by dwelling on it. everyone is entitled to a bad evening... "why can't i make a mistake, i wanna' make a mistake" so it's okay, and us as fans will deal with it. fiona is a human being, and she gave us what she felt she could tonight. i hope she recovers from this show and continues with the success of the other shows she's been having. stay true fi, we're still sticking by you!

until the next show, april

 


Photo courtesy of Nicole

 

From Patrick:

Well, I just got back from Roseland...The show was good (the portion that we experienced)...The sound was excellent at least from the audience's perspective and Fiona's vocals sounded fantastic...but Fi apparently could not hear herself in the stage monitors...factor that in with nervousness for the big NYC show and the fear of critical analysis by the music press and it was just too much for her to bear. The problem was evident from her demeanor during and after the first song...it continued escalating throughout the show until she finally broke down during Carrion proclaiming the song dead...She gathered herself and finished the song...requesting a five minute break so that the sound crew could get the sound right in the stage monitors...after about fifteen to twenty minutes the sound man informed the audience that Fiona could not go on...then blathered something about a promise of a free show in the future.

Disappointed would be my recollection of tonight...I really looked forward to the show and was enjoying it quite nicely in spite of the technical difficulty experienced by Fiona. After buying tickets, taking the train into the city, waiting on line, getting in, getting a good spot up front, hearing Jurassic 5 (pretty good), hearing 10 tunes and having the rest of the show bagged....I am disappointed. I really wanted to hear the encores.

What next?

 

From Mary:

"This," Fiona Apple moaned, "is basically a nightmare."

Only an hour before, Apple had bounded on stage to declare: "Tonight this isn't Roseland. It's Fiona-land."

Now, she was openly crying on stage, fumbling her lyrics, and all the time begging her audience to forgive her.

"I'm sorry you guys. I'm so sorry. You're not getting a show. I'm sorry.  This show sucks."

First, let's get one thing straight: It wasn't her fault.

Whatever you heard, are hearing, or will hear about Apple's concert at Roseland Tuesday night (and you will be hearing about it for quite some time), it wasn't her fault.

But we'll get to that later. Back to the beginning.

The night had started out promisingly enough. Lines of concert-goers stretched for three city blocks by 8 p.m. Some had been there since 3 p.m. Some had counterfeit tickets that were turned away at the door. Some, expecting the laid-back atmosphere of the '97 tour, were shocked by the chaos ("I have to wait on line to see her?" one man asked incredulously).

The crowd ran the gamut from 12 year old girls with glitter-smeared eyelids and cheeks to middle-aged men in three piece suits with cell phones in hand.  Anticipation was running high. This was supposed to be THE concert of the tour. The only NYC show. An all-nighter. "Special" Guests. And Apple herself is a hometown girl, having grown up in Manhattan.

All in all, an awful lot of hope and pressure were hanging in the air at Roseland.

When Apple, clad in a V-neck ribbed violet sweater and black draw-string skirt, ran out to welcome the crowd to "Fiona-land," she was in high spirits. She introduced a friend of hers named Mary Lynn as the host for the evening. The two girls mock-kissed and hugged each other playfully. Then Fiona ran off stage, leaving the crowd in Mary Lynn's capable hands.

Except Mary Lynn was a little...shall we say under the influence?

Straight black bangs hanging in her face, Mary Lynn began lamenting the fact that the musical "Cats" was playing across the street. "Fuck 'Cats,' you guys. Fuck 'Cats'."

It's amazing what people talk about when they have an audience of 4,000 and a mic in their hands.

Mary Lynn said Count Basie should burn in hell. Or go to heaven. She couldn't decide.

Mary Lynn said that Jesus was a good man. She was about to tell the crowd why when they told her to get the hell off the stage.

Finally, Mary Lynn introduced Jurassic 5, the opening band.
Jurassic 5 combined old school beats with wicked samples a la the Pharcyde. They were well received by the crowd for their whole 30-minute set.

Then, Mary Lynn was back to introduce SNL's Jimmy Fallon. "He's like a diamond for all of your fingers," she swooned, as though this made perfect sense.

Was Fallon the mysterious "special" guest? Now, one can only assume that he was.

Accompanied only by his guitar and a pink-haired troll, Fallon hysterically imitated Adam Duritz, Bono, Alanis Morissette, Dave Matthews, and others. He performed for about 15 minutes.

Finally, good old Mary Lynn introduced "the queen of Fiona-land."

Apple took the stage.

Everyone with Web-access knows the set list by now. Apple was behind her white-light strewn piano for the first two songs, "On the Bound" and "To Your Love."

It was the third song, "Criminal," that gave the first indication that something was very wrong. Apple, having peeled off her sweater to reveal a red tank top, repeatedly said that she could not hear herself sing.

Then there was the feedback. Just when Apple was getting into a song, there would be a horrible, ear-piercing noise from her mic.

"Fuck! Fuck!" she kept saying.

She addressed reviewers in the audience, telling them to put away their notebooks and not to "fuck her."

"We love you," the crowd yelled, oblivious.

Her spirits seemed a bit lifted then, and she told the audience: "Aw, fuck it. Let's just have fun."

But things began to fall apart during "Paper bag." Behind the piano again, Apple let the audience sing every chorus. She merely cried "Fuck!"

After "Get Gone," tears began to streak her face.

"I really wanted to do well in New York," she said and apologized incessantly to her fans.

She promised to come back and do a free show in New York, to make up for it. Repeatedly, she turned her back and cried as band members consoled her and encouraged her to go on.

At times, she seemed to recover. During "Sleep to Dream," as she sang "Don't make it a big deal. Don't be so sensitive," Apple patted her chest and smiled, knowing she should take her own advice.

The end came during "Carrion." There was the feedback, then Apple fumbled the lyrics.

"This song is dead," she said finally. She apologized and began it all over again.

But it just didn't work. She was sobbing now and could barely sing. She just repeated: "I've gone away. I've gone away. I've gone away."

Ever seen someone fall apart on stage? It was awful. Not the performance, but the way you felt so bad for her. All of her hopes and the hopes of the audience just crashing down around her. She seemed to fold up into herself, hands over face, hair over hands.

The whole time the audience was screaming: "It's ok!" "Sounds great!" "We love you anyway!"

And it was true. It sounded great to everyone there. Anything she did would've sounded great. But Apple was hearing things very differently up on stage.

"I guess I've really lived up to everyone's expectations," she said. She was being sarcastic of course, but also seemed to be considering the expectations of the press.

The media has portrayed her as a brat: spoiled, immature, unprofessional. In her mind, at Roseland, she fulfilled all of their "expectations."

After garnering great reviews for "When the Pawn." from the major New York daily newspapers (including the New York Times), Apple must have hoped for the same from her performance.

When she finally put "Carrion" out of its misery, Apple asked the audience for a five-minute break, to improve the sound.

She never came back.

25 minutes later, a man in a suit emerged and told everyone to hold on to their ticket-stubs. Apple would come back to New York soon and put on a "kick-ass" show, he promised.

However, the most shocking aspect of the whole concert was not its abrupt end, but rather how quickly and how brutally Apple's fans turned on her.

A Manhattan lawyer argued: "What if I was in the courtroom in front of a judge and I said it was too hot for me to continue? I would be disbarred!" He said this as if it were a perfectly logical comparison to draw.

As the lights were turned on and people dispersed (ironically, to the sounds of Louie Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World'), four young girls laughed as they danced in jerks and fits-imitating Apple.

Sure, there was disappointment. There was even anger. But the disrespect and cruelty exhibited by some so-called fans can only be called disgusting.

Some are saying that she should have continued, even with the poor sound system. Maybe the fans wouldn't have cared. But she cared. She couldn't do it half-way.

Some are saying she spent too much time addressing the reviewers in the crowd. But she apologized to the fans many times. She never once apologized to the critics-only implored them to be fair.

I'm not a reviewer, just a fan. I can't tell you about the technicalities of sound systems or the fickleness of New York audiences or the stress of being a young performer, out on only your second-ever tour.

One thing I can tell you: I'm holding on to my ticket-stub.

 

From Anthony:

I write this with a great deal of sadness.

What I saw take place at the Roseland Ballroom tonight, was a display of unbelievable unprofessionalism the likes of which I have never seen on any stage.

That I would write this about a woman and a performer that I truly respect and admire makes it all the more worse.

Singers and artists from the beginning of time, have had off-nights, been in bad voice, or been sick.  Most of these artists have enough respect for their audiences to continue on with the show and try to overcome obstacles despite the adversities.

Fiona Apple, ranted, raved, cursed and neglected to remember that people had paid hard earned money to see her.

Her response might be that she was upset at not being able to give her best due to sound problems.

My response is…Frank Sinatra at one time or another I'm sure had sound problems. So did I am also sure, Madonna, Ella Fitzgerald, Garth Brooks and any host of other great and gifted artists… 

You go on with the show…you try your best…you do not quit…you do not act like a belligerent five-year-old upset at not having her way. You do not walk off a stage and not return for twenty minutes.

People left in droves.

Do I have sympathy for her problems tonight?

I would have had the greatest respect in the world had she shut up and DONE HER JOB!

 

From Gary:

Dear Fiona Apple, 

Let me start out by saying your show at Roseland on Leap Year Day, 2000 was the most dramatic evening I have ever spent on Broadway. And don't think for a minute I'm being sarcastic, because a reading of this complete letter will show I am not. I'm serious when I say your heartbreaking performance can only hoped to be matched by the revivals and imports currently occupying the Broadway houses. 

I arrived at the tradition-rich Roseland ballroom with great anticipation at seeing in person the woman I believe will eventually be regarded as one of the greatest lyricists of all time. I came to see how a singer I compare to Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf (not to Alanis Morissette and Paula Cole) would translate her incomparable record performances to her stage performances. At your request, I am glad to withhold judgment based on what you called "a disaster" at Roseland. 

In the opening stanzas of your opening number, "On The Bound," I assumed your screaming certain lines and pointing your finger high in the air came from a new anger discovered within your lyrics. 

When you rose from the piano after your second song and stormed across the stage toward the sound board, I thought I was just witnessing your catchy flailing-arms dance move. 

When you stopped and threw your hands at your side in utter frustration in the middle of your hit-song "Criminal," it began to become apparent there was a problem beyond your being "careless with a delicate man." 

When you kept stopping in the middle of songs, screaming "I can't hear myself!" and pressing your ear lobes tight, it made clear a sound problem on stage was thwarting your vocal efforts. 

When you both confessed and apologized to the crowd for not being able to get into the songs because you could not hear yourself, I thought it a remarkable and endearing moment of revelation between a performer and the audience. 

When you grabbed the microphone in the middle of a song and said, "If any of you f---in' reviewers f--- me, I'm gonna f---in' kill you." I knew I would not be reviewing a concert but a dramatic event. 

And when I saw you break down in front of the crowd and cry real tears, I felt as frustrated as you did. Seriously, Fiona, my feelings were not of disappointment at not seeing the best Fiona concert, but that you, an artist I admire so highly, was in such distress, such pain. Because it was all honest. The frustration, anger, and helplessness was real. Drama transcended music on this given night. 

What really amazed me was your professionalism during it all. Now that may sound strange because some would say a true professional would just step up, get through the show somehow and move on to the next town. But you knew the system---the sound system---was against you and you could not give your best show. And you wanted your audience to know it. So you kept trying and trying, while apologizing and apologizing, but the monitors never came through for you. 

The audience was treated to songs half-sung and half-cursed through, but to me it was all the more professional because your most basic instinct had to be to throw down the microphone and storm off stage. Which is what you eventually did, but only after a solid hour of trying to pull the show together and after one final, tearful, "I am soooo sorry." 

But, Fiona, while it may have been a disastrous concert, it was a great show because it so clearly exhibited a depth of caring in you. And without that depth of caring there would be no depth of songs. And in the end your songs will be your legacy, your great gift to mankind. 

Of course, I'll take advantage of your generous offer to everyone at Roseland to keep their ticket stub for a "free" show when you return to the city. But don't feel bad about what happened tonight because I can guarantee you that no one paying tons of money to see the slick, precision-choreographed performances from Shania to Springsteen, from Ricky to Puffy, have ever seen such raw rock-and-roll emotion as witnessed at Roseland on 2/29/00. 

Just keep being who you are. Promise me that, Fiona. You are "justified." Your lyrics justify you. Whatever is in you that lets things get to you on stage, or get your anger up at critics, are the same 

sensitivities that result in lines like: 

"It's true I do imbue my blue unto myself, I make it bitter."

For my part, I will never pass judgment or criticize any unfortunate concert performance of an individual that can pen a song like "I Know." Remember, present judgments of you will never stand the test of time against the timelessness of your words. So keep on, Fiona, and don't lose your desideratum. (See? What would I do without you, Fiona? I learned a new word from you: desideratum.) 

Your fan for life, 
Gary Drake 

 


Pictures of NIAP
 Fiona and Mary Lynn


packed room


Jimmy Fallon