In "Northern Lad," a winsome ballad off of Tori Amos' recently released fourth album, "From the Choirgirl Hotel," the flame-haired singer reflects on a nasty break-up and concludes: "I guess sometimes you go too far / When pianos try to be guitars." It's one of those bull's eye lyrics that Amos is so good at delivering, but critics will probably be more interested in the line's relation to the change in her music.
On "Choirgirl," Amos' "me and my piano" laments are placed in different sonic settings, incorporating industrial rock and techno into her ivories-based tunes.
It's a bold move that pays off big time. While the relationship she sings about in "Northern Lad" may have soured, Amos didn't go too far on this album -- she's not masquerading as Bjork here. The rock tabs and dance beats complement her complex song structures beautifully and make this her most accessible, and perhaps best, record to date.
On the heels of 1996's "Boys for Pele," this may come as something of a surprise to fans. The lyrics on "Pele" were often maddeningly obtuse and many of the songs themselves were amelodic and difficult to unfold. The record divided the critics into "love it" or "hate it" categories, with "Rolling Stone" panning it and "Spin" naming it one of the best albums of the year.
"Pele" was a record that was more rewarding the more you listened to it, and some may argue that the more immediately likable "Choirgirl" is Tori-light. They'd be wrong. While the lyrics are slightly more straightforward and the songs more hummable, this record capitalizes on everything that makes Amos such a unique figure in the pop music landscape -- the clear soprano voice, the impeccable piano playing, the engaging songwriting.
As with any Amos album, the songs are informed by the singer's own life, and her recent marriage and miscarriage are alluded to in several of the pieces. Turning suffering into art may be a cliche, but Amos does it better than most, and her music never wallows in self-pity. The "choirgirls" on this album may be troubled, but they're definitely holding themselves together.
The same can be said for Amos, who doesn't seem daunted by the addition of other musicians. Despite the often difficult themes that she addresses, she is confident and relaxed.
This self-assurance serves the new material well, especially in light of the fact that this record contains some of Amos' sexiest music to date. She practically swaggers on "Raspberry Swirl," panting and howling, "If you want inside her, well / You've gotta make her raspberry swirl." Anyone that likens Amos to the ultra-dull ladies of Lilith Fair should listen to this song and be silent forever more.
Besides "Raspberry Swirl," the other track that demands to be heard on both rock radio and the dance floor is "She's Your Cocaine," a biting song that casts the female character as the victimizer: "She says control it / Then she says don't control it / Then she says you're controlling." Amos has enough insight to realize that women can be jerks too, and this knowledge prevents her songs from being narrow-minded.
While there's a fair share of brassy material here, Amos hasn't turned into Madonna just yet. "Jackie's Strength" is Amos the way Amos fans know and love her, and the lyrics improbably but effectively link together a young bride's pre-wedding jitters, a David Cassidy lunchbox and the Kennedy assassination. It also contains another of her sharp romantic observations: "If you love enough, you'll lie a lot / Guess they did in Camelot."
The wisdom of the speakers in "Jackie's Strength" and other Amos songs seems hard-earned. Nowhere is this more evident then on "Playboy Mommy," a bluesy tune in which a town tramp visits her dead child's tombstone, pleading "I'll say it loud here by your grave / Those angels can't ever take my place." Even without the knowledge of her miscarriage, this song strikes a sympathetic note that is genuine and heartfelt.
With such strong material here, "Choirgirl" breaks new ground for Amos. We know that she's mastered the "girl and her piano" routine, and although she took it in different and satisfying directions in each of her first three records, she resolved her trilogy so well with "Pele" that it would be foolish to draw from the same well again. A new story is unfolding here, and die-hard fans and the uninitiated alike would be wise to listen up.
