A raging Apple needs a bit of sugar

Fiona Apple may rely more on confrontation for inspiration than any top-level songwriter since Elvis Costello and Sinead O’Connor, as she painfully demonstrated Saturday at the Wiltern LG.

Listening to song after song of discontent, you got the feeling the 28-year-old former pop enfant terrible was still so quick to take offense that she could probably write an entire album about someone cutting in front of her at the supermarket checkout line.

The trouble with pop artists coming at us time and again with a single message is that they can easily turn into caricatures, and that -- quite surprisingly -- was Apple’s fate that night.

For most of her 100 minutes on stage, the presentation felt cold and one-dimensional.

One reason: The four-piece band played with such unrelenting force that it left little room for the subtlety, sophistication and wit of her lyrics or vocals -- much less any winning sense of tunefulness. The result: This free-spirited, imaginative singer was held down by a ball and chain.

But Apple, who has toured infrequently since her last album six years ago, needs to share the blame.

The New York native who now lives in Southern California still hasn’t figured out how to relate to an audience onstage. She smiled and was quite personable between numbers as adoring fans repeatedly yelled, “We love you, Fiona.”

But she tended to be stiff and melodramatic during the songs, as if the only emotion she felt safe in sharing was the conflict. Apple doesn’t stamp her feet like Janis Joplin, but she clutches her dress, twists her head and shakes her shoulders as if trying to exorcise the building tension inside.

The impression is that she’s all too content to wallow in her own discomfort. And that’s not the case, as the music and arrangements on her three albums confirm.

As a writer, Apple explores painful relationships with a craft, conviction and vulnerability that go far beyond mere retribution. Indeed, the real theme of her music is the struggle for self-affirmation.

In the melodic title tune of her excellent new album, “Extraordinary Machine,” she touches with style and good humor on her own struggle and resilience.

If there was a better way to go then it would find me

I can’t help it, the road just rolls out behind me

Be kind to me, or treat me mean

I’ll make the most of it, I’m an extraordinary machine.

It’s one of the single most engaging pop tunes of the year, and it worked wonderfully Saturday because she sent most of the band to the wings and performed the song backed only by an acoustic guitar and bass. That allowed her to highlight all the delicate and witty elements in it.

“Extraordinary Machine” is one of two tunes on the album arranged by pop-cabaret auteur Jon Brion, whose freewheeling musical vision also contributed to the brilliance of Kanye West’s “Late Registration” album.

The other track produced by Brion, “Waltz (Better Than Fine),” is equally disarming -- a dash of hope that blows away the melancholy in Apple’s music the way “Over the Rainbow” offered hope to the often disheartened Judy Garland decades ago.

On record, Brion supplies an orchestral color that zeros in on the sweet optimism in the tune -- qualities that are as much a part of Apple’s true spirit as the confrontation.

It’s a glorious pop pep talk:

If you don’t have a song to sing

You’re ok

You know how to get along humming

If you don’t have a date

Celebrate

Apple, who wore an elegant gown, didn’t find time for “Waltz” on Saturday -- unless I missed it in the colorless drone of much of the evening.

The remaining songs on the album -- including such personal and moving tunes as “O’ Sailor” and “Parting Gift” -- were produced by Mike Elizondo. Though more in the blunt style of the stage band, they worked on disc because the emphasis remained on Apple’s vocals and there was still some cinematic flair. In the transfer to the stage, however, the tunes lost much of their identity.

The exception was “Parting Gift,” an especially winning number in which Apple points the finger at herself as much as a former lover for mistakes.

She saved the song for the end and performed it alone onstage. As with “Extraordinary Machine,” the simpler approach illuminated Apple’s artistry rather than smothered it.

The real test of her resilience is whether she can correct the problems on a tour that is in its infancy. After a few headline club and theater shows, Apple will open more than a dozen arena shows for Coldplay.

Hopefully, she’ll have worked things out by the time she faces these much larger, more demanding audiences. Apple’s artistry goes well beyond caricature, so she shouldn’t come across as one on stage.

Besides, who doesn’t prefer a Delicious Apple to a Sour Apple?

Contact Robert Hilburn, pop music critic of The Times, at robert.hilburn@latimes.com.