More Piano, Less Makeup - I Want My Old Tori Back!

To call Tori Amos’ work “mediocre” or “uninspired” is almost sacrilegious to her most loyal of fans, myself included.

I avoided those words when I delivered my review of her 2007 album American Doll Posse with a thin coat of sugar, even if my Posse CD has, since, a mileage of less than 5 full playbacks and even if I barely recall anything more than three-quarters of one song and mere single lines from about 3 others. I owed that to a matter of preference. Tori lost me after her foray into heavier piano-less sound in Choirgirl, and picked up Scarlet and Beekeeper which was for me were a more familiar Tori in instrumentation and spirit.

Yep, call me the fan in the “soft” (i.e., piano) Tori spectrum. While I do respect the range of musical stylings present in Posse, in retrospect, it lacked emotional connection – something that even her most cryptic of lyrics and most bizarre arrangements in her early-90s albums were rich with. And that was what made Tori so great to me – the music transcended the surrealism of her words. You listen to her wanting to kill a waitress, taking the Lord’s name in vain, you conjure dirty abstract images in your head – and yet, you feel the songs speaking to/about you clearly. Like magic, it was as if the Bösendorfer and harpsichords lent perfect sense to them somehow. (Why, people even created graphic novels out of her songs.)

Meanwhile, there’s her recent release, Abnormally Attracted To Sin. And I go, “can I say ‘huh’ now?”


It has its share of heavy and slow tempo arrangements, so I can’t fault it by being too much of a rock album. Predictably, Police Yourself and Strong Black Vine, the most drowned in heavy rhythms are my least favorites.

I do fault it for being… blah. Alright, Fire To Your Plain does have a catchy tune, Welcome To England has the recognizable sweetness in Tori’s elongating of her vowels, and Flavor (my favorite track) mirrors the soulfulness of Beekeeper (plus reminds me of that Bush song from the Buffy The Vampire Slayer soundtrack). The rest seem to be forgettable tracks. A 17-track record is not necessarily too long – but this one is because I’m waiting in vain for a gem. My ears just stop paying attention after track #12.

It’s nice that That Guy starts out nicely like snake charmer’s music, and that there are vibes of other-worldliness and tribal in Give and Not Dying Today, respectively. Touches of eclecticism, sure, but so wanting in the quirkiness and wit that made me love good old Mr. Zebra, Happy Phantom, Past The Mission and Wrong Band so much. Mary Jane has a little hint of that, but not enough to make you smile in wonderment.

Maybe California, with its string accompaniment, evokes a familiar mood as Gold Dust and Toast from a few years ago, and even ends in a similar minor chord. Overall, though the whole record somehow pictures Tori as a more complete and stronger woman – albeit detached and devoid of any vulnerability. Plus, there is absolutely no sign of Tori’s haunting piano anywhere!

What doesn’t help and this was also why Posse didn’t leave me with a stronger impact – was that whatever initial impressions I have of the tracks has little room for "growing on" because... I have no idea what any of these songs are about. And it’s not that they’re odd, it's because apart from choruses… they’re just plain unintelligible! Whether it is the synths and guitars or the accent drowning the vocals, it totally robs the songs of their personalities. While I give up on making out Tori’s garbled speech, I mentally try to find aural cues by finding similarities from old albums just in an attempt to connect to the songs. (For instance, is the title track in any way connected to Original Sin-suality?) But after the comparisons, the connection ends.

As a last note, I can’t help but notice there are some traces of the “dolls” here (yeah, I’m looking at the blonde wig in the Fire To Your Plain video and super-straightened hair on TV guestings). I hope it stops before anybody notices that makeup amount and costume outlandishness level are inversely proportional to quality of music.

Rating: ***