A friend likes to call the genre that Fiona Apple falls under "crying vagina" music. Though an accurate description, have to say, there weren't an overwhelming number crying vaginas last night at the Fillmore on Miami Beach. Maybe because it's Miami Beach and everyone's tanned and worked out. Who knows?! Ms. Apple, in keeping with the times, played miserable, tortured, lyrically intense music in the '90s when the economy was great, and plays upbeat jams with odd tempo shifts now that we're financially in the shitter. So, some vaginas were crying, others were dancing dorkily. Many were being asked not to film during the show.
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A full review would likely include some facts like, Fiona looked terribly thin, her voice is magnificent and impressively stayed strong throughout the whole performance, she didn't play "Criminal." Instead of giving you the actual details, we'll describe the show through ten things we saw at the crying vagina, uh, we mean, Fiona Apple show last night.
(Hint of what's to come: Change "Fiona Apple" to "Lilith Fair" and the content remains the same.)