Released on Apple Records.

3/5 stars

Since Alanis cut her hair, Ani got married (to a guy, no less), and Liz Phair started screwing a younger man during X-Box breaks, the days of Lilith Fair have seemed over., but with the release of Fiona Apple’s new album “Extraordinary Machine,” I hoped that musical man-hating was back.

Her voice and physical features polarize listeners into fright (skinny white boys) or adoration (latter day feminists). Those sallow eyes, sultry voice and writhing midriff in 1996’s “Criminal” video won me; while I had only a prepubescent understanding of the subject, it began a pseudo-sapphic affair with self-loathing women.

However, the impossible has occurred: Fiona Apple is happy. Gone are her trademark sorrowful lyrics and melodies. “Extraordinary Machine” is a more confident and ironically detached side of Apple.

At age 18, Apple debuted with the album, “Tidal,” in which she masterfully channeled her anger over her parents’ separation and her own brutal rape. She followed with the bland “When the Pawn…,” whose infamous 90-word title received more attention than the mediocre recordings. On “Extraordinary Machine,” Apple performs, rather than laments.

Apple tells of being tired of her reign as ruling musical bitch on “Better Version of Me”: “I am likely to miss the main event/If I stop to cry or complain again.” Fiona Apple’s new verve may startle some, but her style is unfailingly virtuosic.

The album is an accessible assortment of cabaret pop, jazzy ballads, and a light-hearted breakup saga. Dr. Dre protégé Mike Elizando and Jon Brion (producer of “When the Pawn…” and Kanye West’s stellar “Late Registration”) produce, giving the album a grown-up feel that “Tidal” lacked.

The best tracks on the album—“Get Him Back” and “Not About Love”—with the Roots’ drummer Ahmir “?uestlove” Thompson. This collaboration adds a unique funk which brings new depth to Apple’s heavy piano rifts.

Her whimsical, Ella Fitzgerald-like tone on the titular track is adorable and catchy. “O’Sailor” evokes the tempestuous 18-year-old girl with whom I fell in love, but is sung with the distance of experience. She strains voice and emotions in several songs, but they don’t undermine the overall innovation.

There’s likely no way Apple will recapture the raw creativity and supple emotion of her debut; she’s grown up and her audiences have to as well. “Extraordinary Machine” proves that she has a talent for poetry even without suffering.

—Staff writer Kristina M. Moore can be reached at moore2@fas.harvard.edu.