Very good music journalism on Fiona Apple.

Excerpt:
“She read about whipping cords, which are used to bind and repair frayed ropes, in ‘this book about boating that was at my last boyfriend’s house.’ The idea is less about avoiding mistakes than learning how to cope with them. ‘You’re gonna get punched and blown around,’ she says. She looks over my shoulder into the empty restaurant, tries to figure out how to express what she wants to express. ‘What’s valuable is to know how to make something out of that.’ Apple has had a lot of years to learn.”
Good. Journalism. Music. Very. Words, sentences, phrasing, style, headexplodes.

I just want to feel like I’m saying something meaningful, something beautiful. Maybe not now, but someday. Otherwise, what the hell am I doing here?