Is it sad that of the three posts that I have made about music thus far, two of them have been about Tori Amos? Is it sad that this is the second post in a row in which I blather on insipidly about red-haired icons of my misspent nerdy youth (never mind that the red hair isn’t real in this instance; these Titian tresses are bottle-born)? Even stranger, another red head who goes by a name other than the one granted her at birth (she was born Myra Ellen; “Tori” is a misspelled and odd reference to the Tories of British political persuasion)?
Ah, screw it. I don’t care. I know very little about music. I know only what I like. And I like Tori. Beyond the gorgeous vocals and a skill at piano playing that would make Beethoven weep, there is a wellspring of strength and complexity within Tori Amos that envelops you instantly. Plus, she radiates this hypnotic omnisexual magnetism that I daresay not even Ann Coulter could resist (though I’m sure Ms. Amos would prefer if she did).
But let’s reel it back for a moment to the topic at hand: Tori’s latest release, Abnormally Attracted to Sin. I’ve been giving it a steady listen since its release on May 19. It’s not her greatest release. I think, though, that an artist who has been at her craft as long as Tori has been is allowed ebbs and flows. I think this is the beginning of a flow, a recovery from American Doll Posse, which was the tail end of an ebb begun with The Beekeeper.
Personally, I did like a lot of The Beekeeper. But it was in desperate need of an editor. That seems to be the problem with AAtS as well. While I’m glad that Tori has pulled back a bit from the more experimental existence of American Doll Posse (a place she dips into every now and again, as she did with Strange Little Girls and Boys for Pele), I long for a bit more of a tight ship, so to speak. I appreciate her desire to give me a lotta bang for my buck with tons of songs and videos, but I’m a strong believer of the “less is more” argument. Plus, you always want to leave your audience wanting for more.
Another thing that I’ve found both comforting and distracting about AAtS is that it’s so very reminiscent of some of my favorite previous Tori releases, like From the Choirgirl Hotel or the new portion of To Venus and Back. It’s another rare instance in which she allows outside musicians to merge with her enviable piano skills, to a moderately successful end. The CD, in fact, starts out with several strong electronica-chill pieces, with “Strong Black Vine” breaking out at the beginning with strings vaguely reminiscent of the hook from Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.”
Still, it loses its way toward the end, and even at the height of its greatness, it makes me wistful for these earlier works; several times, in fact, I’ve abandoned AAtS to listen to one or the other of these previous favorites. I’d still recommend AAtS to die hard Tori fans. If I were introducing someone to Tori’s music, though, I would dig all the way back to the beginning and Little Earthquakes. Even with all her releases since her debut, this remains not only my favorite Tori CD, but one of my favorite CDs of all time.
I guess the bottom line with me is that I can find something to enjoy on each of Tori’s releases (granted, I only have one song on my iPod from Strange Little Girls and I skip around quite a bit on Boys for Pele and American Doll Posse). And, before you assume, no, it’s not a guarantee that I will remain faithful to those musicians from my adolescence who are still making music. I abandoned Aerosmith not long after they decided it would be a good idea to let former RATT songwriters start scripting their warbling. And Madonna? Oh noes. I think Confessions on a Dance Floor was a last gasp at the fringes of former greatness. If she continues to make the music she made on her last release, I’m going to humbly decline to listen anymore.
I suppose I can be a little more forgiving of Ms. Amos because she’s not center stage, but still she perseveres. This is obviously something that she loves to do. She is obviously overflowing with ideas and concepts and mythologies that scream to be released. She is the original “strange little girl,” with a quirky, keen intellect and a deliciously dirty humor. Plus, she’s a Maryland-raised hometown girl who once walked the same streets that I now call my home. What’s not to love about that?
