Lilith
Tori Amos
American Doll Posse
****
Between the parade of schizo get-ups and her lyrical anthologies of sorta fairy tales, Tori Amos may just have the worst Peter Pan complex since Mariah Carey. But get past the marketing of American Doll Posse, because this is the best album Tori Amos has to offer.
One indisputable rule of Amos is her varied musical artistries. Although her foundation lies in sprawling, haunting piano riffs, she is also a master of quirk, a vocal acrobat and, quite frankly, an orchestral genius. Usually each album is relegated to one musical angle, but American Doll Posse is a delicious sampler of sound. The album feels like a hall of mirrors and lights: Each song shines a divine image while reflecting the others; the result is dizzying and spectacular.
The album showcases five voices, including: “Tori,” who is classic Little Earthquakes, reckless and scathing; “Clyde,” with a Choirgirl Hotel feel of taunting, acerbic melodies; “Isabel,” Amos’ sweet, daisy-tripping optimist, à la The Beekeeper; and “Santa,” who is poppy, plucky and Under the Pink. But it is Tori’s avant-garde voice “Pip” who owns this album. She is a ruthless rocker who pounces on the piano and gnaws the microphone like meat. She spits angsty lyrics a propos of any riot grrl, and negates all whiffs of faeries and puppy tails. “Pip” is evidence that Tori Amos is still alive, and American Doll Posse is her full-body rebirth.