Choosing which of the seven CDs written and published by Myra Ellen Amos, known as Tori, to review is not easy for someone like me who follows this half-Cherokee American girl with absolute devotion and love since her debut in 1991, even though the last two works aid in the decision as they aren’t up to the level of the previous ones and therefore do not deserve to be considered.
However, five remain, all embarrassingly beautiful, complex, diverse, and complete. My choice falls on Boys for Pele from 1996, perhaps the most challenging, difficult work, so varied that it may seem dispersive at first listen but will actually lay the foundation for the subsequent From the Choirgirl Hotel, the CD judged by critics and the public as her most balanced and mature work (1998).
The rebellious daughter of a Protestant minister from North Carolina, Tori was already composing virtuosic pieces at the piano, her main instrument, at the age of nine, with which she expresses every sensation today almost tangibly, palpably, and incredibly sensually. At fifteen, she left her hometown, earning a living by singing in nightclubs and forming various groups that would never satisfy her talent, leading her to choose the successful path of composer and soloist.
Boys for Pele, the third album by the red-haired musician, completely highlights her creative genius distinguishing itself from the previous ones with a more complex and heterogeneous musical structure, almost exuberant due to its eclecticism. The formula remains the same: grand ballads where piano virtuosity and vocal virtuosity build images and emotions with a strong emotional and evocative impact, while the melodies give body and voice to the deepest issues of the female universe, and incredible sensations seize the listener, transporting them into a distant and unreal dimension.
All of this with immense sweetness and passion, which cradle us, carrying us to distant and warm soundscapes. The voice rises from the depths yet remains very delicate even where it is a powerful instrument, now screaming, now whispered; the piano notes are executed with precision and richness, there are only seven, but they seem infinite. The use of strings combined with percussion, the harpsichord played simultaneously with the grand piano - seen with my eyes filled with her - and the music box provide a sense of loss of time perception; hence we find almost chivalric and medieval settings in "Horses" and "Blood Roses," madrigals in "Father Lucifer," the unleashed "Professional Widow" is almost a standalone rock opera, then the trick of "Mr. Zebra" and the fall with the sweetest "Marianne," heart-wrenching for its sweetness; we reach the peak with the most electronic and experimental track "Caught a Lite Sneeze," passing through the gospel of "Way Down" and "Muhammad My Friend," the intimate interlude of "Not the Red Baron," and the somewhat baroque and somewhat modern ballad of "Talula" up to the extreme swing, contaminated by voodoo rites and jazz rhythms of "In The Springtime of His Voodoo" where the American beauty's vocalizations make one blush with embarrassment for the skill and sensuality.
The CD closes with "Twinkle," a very sweet ballad that momentarily makes us forget the rabid energy and the sort of bitterness contained within the CD (Amos had just been left by her man and producer Eric Rosse, from whom she reportedly was very disappointed) and returns us to our daily routine as after the effect of a sound slap and a long, slow caress over the entire body...
Perhaps an overly rich work both for the number of tracks (18) and the fullness of the sound contents, it needs to be listened to a bit more attentively than the others, but it is truly worth it, I assure you. The journey to Tori is a wonderful, one-way trip...
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