Of course, you might expect this from the predominantly female crowd of Fiona Apple-likes, belly rings and wispy hair were the acoutrements di rigeur this evening as the anxious crowd awaited opening act Hooverphonic.

This synth-based ensemble got right into it with fat keyboards wafting over thick and snotty bass lines, guitar noise and the ghostly, high-flying voice of the lead singer--a girl who stayed nearby the microphone during the entire set as if she was afraid the rest of the stage was mined.

Not that it detracted from the slow and steady push of the band's trippy and hypnotizing grooves. Only once did they proceed to rock it up, sending the entranced dance floor into a writhing ballet of half-tempo struts. Hot, sexy and fairly pulsing with a fat bottom beat, Hooverphonic managed to hold the main hall in its own electronic grasp for a short set before leaving the stage.

One of the jocks from XL 106.7 came out to toss t-shirts and pens into the crowd while asking that the people closest to the stage refrain from smoking during Fiona's set. It seems that Ms. Apple had come down with one of those nasty Florida colds (brought to our shores by all of those nasty tourists, no doubt) and was recuperating from a day spent sick in bed. Instead of cancelling the show, however--she was hopping herself up with medicine and just wanted to make a small request on behalf of her throat. As the lights came down and cheers erupted in the darkness--dozens of cigarettes were crushed out at the foot of the stage.

Fiona came out with her backing band and proceeded to plant herself at the piano for a funked-up version of "Sleep To Dream" and then rolled into another song without pause. Despite a voice that was obviously not completely under her control, she ran screaming at lines like "I have never been so insulted in all my life/I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride." After a rippling virtuoso burst of tickling ivories, she reached for a cup of something steaming from atop the piano and smiled weakly at the crowd.

"Let me tell you, I haven't even seen the sun today--I've been locked up in my room with this cold." The crowd screamed out love to her and she glanced around, seeming to soak it all in. No pretention around this kid--with her huge blue eyes glinting in the lights, she took another gulp of medicinal brew and slithered into an up-tempo "Shadowboxer", extending her solos and rocking madly in time with the rhythm. Sounding every bit as competent as she does on the album, it's Fiona's voice that benefits the most from live performing. On the latin-tinged "The First Taste", she lost herself deep within the lyrics, growling and cooing the words of taboo and falling into a flowing dance with the microphone stand. For a moment, she seemed all alone up there--lost in some private fantasy that we all watched as voyeurs.

Her backing band provided plenty of meat when all present, especially during the rocked-out "Criminal" and the laid-back "Sullen Girl". Preparing to go off-stage for an encore, the clearly exhausted Apple walked back across the stage and sat at the piano instead ("I was going to come right back on, but--oh well..") and treated the crowd to an intensely dramatic rendition of "Never Is A Promise". She pulled from a reserve of energy somewhere inside and gave punch and ferocity to passages like "I realize what I am now too smart to mention to you". Her barely contained emotion during this song won the appreciation of fans as the band came back to join her for a final number.

She stood there, eyes searching the second floor pews--hands clutched together and toying with a strand of hair. Eyes wide open to the sound of applause, lost in her own little world for a moment. Fiona smiled and dashed off-stage, most like to some Nyquil and the knowledge that her critics have been answered. She's got the chops, now time will season them rightly.