Review: Fiona Apple, ‘The Idler Wheel’: Aidin Vaziri | Just when it felt as if Fiona Apple didn’t have anything else to bare, she returns with an album that is so intimate you often have to stop and wonder if she ever intended for anyone else to hear it. On her first set of new music in seven years, “The Idler Wheel …” (the full title stretches to 23 words), the pained singer forgoes the elaborate production of her previous releases in favor of a lo-fi recording effect that kind of makes it sound as if she recorded the songs on a handheld cassette deck in the bathroom. The music is sparse (usually just a piano and her husky voice), the compositions complex and the lyrics never light. “Jonathan” sounds like a late-night kitchen demo; “Left Alone” is more akin to a temper tantrum inadvertently caught on tape. But the album’s lack of barriers is also what makes it so gripping. When, on “Regret,” Apple begins howling the verses in a voice that’s so scratchy it’s hard to make out the words, it’s hard to imagine music coming from a more brutal place.