* * (2 out of 5 stars)

The Problem With Tori Amos

This album is a very good primer on what is wrong with Tori Amos. First off, it’s a concept album–an idea that has not proven successful for just about anyone (though, I personally think The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway and Quadrophenia are quite good). But that fault merely illustrates her artiness. The real problem is that it is overwrought and hangs so heavily on the dramatic pretense of a woman singing songs by men.

Yet, the covers she has chosen are rarely good examples of songs sung by men that illustrate failings of men.

Take, for instance, I Don’t Like Mondays. Originally written about the Brenda Spencer shooting spree, there is no male perspective. Unless one wants to consider that Bob Geldof is a male (arguably tenable) singing about a crime a woman committed. So, Tori Amos has taken this non-gender specific song, broken it down, and turned it into, well, a broken down version of a non-gender specific song.

Eminem’s 97 Bonnie and Clyde fares better, but only because she retains and builds upon the original creepiness. However, only a ninny would think that Eminem was telling this story for face value. It was intended as a harrowing tale of depravity. Here her target is again a bit off. Tori Amos is obviously a smart person who would understand the original music. On top of this, I clearly imagine that she likes the original song. So, without a context change this performance is merely a creepy retelling of the original. If there is an irony to it then it is simply that she is female singing a song about a female being killed. This has as much irony as a small person performing Randy Newman’s Short People. Were that to occur, the original poignance of the song would remain intact.

But what this is getting down to is that she has created an album of highly arty covers of songs with a highly arty reason behind it replete with severely emotionally overwrought performances. But the foundation of this is very unstable. Is she saying that the guy in 10cc’s I’m Not In Love has troubles with committment or is insensitive by emphasizing the line "It hides a nasty stain that’s lying there"? Well duh. Alert Godley and Creme–someone figured out the meaning of their song.

It’s also worth noting that Heart of Gold and Enjoy the Silence are two other songs lacking a male perspective. Which begins to explain something else about this album that is not readily apparent, especially with all the yapping that this was a female singing blah blah blah: Tori Amos likes these songs.

Which gets right back to why this album is a primer on what’s wrong with Tori Amos. She wanted to pay tribute to songs she likes, but ever the artiste she couldn’t just go and redo them in her style–that would be beneath her. So, she had to mask the simple and honest act of enjoying music in a facade of wanting to lay them bare and expose the hideous underbelly of them. If she were going to take songs as examples of misogyny why the heck isn’t "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-A-Lot included? Don’t know about you, but I’d really find it entertaining to hear her pouring out tons of emotion on the line "My anaconda don’t want none, unless you’ve got buns, hon."

On the other hand, this album does serve up a few very creepy performances, and in no way can the listener tune this music out. That the songs are compelling is to her credit. That they fail under her desire to make a statement without substance is typical.