This blog does not often contain much in the way of 'scandal' or 'gossip.' Mostly, this is because it is about me and, let's face it, there's not much about me that is 'scandalous.' And if there is, like the time last year I finished the last of the milk then stuck the empty carton back in the refrigerator - my heart still races at the thought of it, I usually don't write about it in public.

Until now.

Let me come out with it, then: I'm having an affair. I know, I know. Crazy, right? Who with, you wonder? Who could this vixen be, this licentious home wrecker? Well, here's where things get a little more interesting. I'm having an affair with Fiona Apple. And you want to know the truly outrageous part? Fiona doesn't even know it. (So keep it under wraps, okay?)

I have to say that my iPod is an accomplice in this whole thing, the pimp. He set the whole thing up. He and his iTunes. I don't begrudge him, I'm simply placing blame where it is due. Thanks to him, I've had several clandestine dates with Fiona, unbeknownst to Catherine. Sunday, we went for a long walk together in the city, enjoyed the crisp fall air. We worked out together, did the dishes. That night, I even brought her to bed with me . . . while Catherine was sound asleep right there next to us! I'll admit it, this is a bitter pill to swallow. It is not for the faint of heart.

The only thing that's played on my iPod since Friday evening has been Extraordinary Machine, Fiona's latest release. But I just can't seem to help myself.

The first listen was sort of a 'get to know each other' thing. We weren't really sure if it was going to work out. There were new sounds, new sensations. It was strange.

But the more we got to know each other, the more those sounds enveloped me, heavy, like a burden I longed to bear. I craved more.

The entire album has that dark, floating wavelike feeling that made Tidal so memorable. The melodies are infectious and interlaced with delicious, well-timed moments of dissonance. Her throaty, sensuous voice breathes an easy honesty into her lyrics. Each line contains a bare-boned candor, unadorned, simple in it's depth.

from 'Parting Gift'

I opened my eyes while you were kissing me, once
More than once
- And you looked as sincere as a dog
Just as sincere as a dog does
When it's the food on your lips, with which it's in love

There are slow, minimalist songs like 'Parting Gift,' (quoted above) which I love, and poppy, I dare say almost 'hip-hoppy,' little confessions like 'Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song).'

I would definitely recommend this album to anybody. And as far as Fiona and I go? Well, as with any heated affair, I'm sure this thing will begin to cool. I'll move on to other music, other artists. She'll continue to not know I exist. But Extraordinary Machine will always be one of those albums I'll come back to from time to time and remember warmly that one special weekend we had together.

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