Tori Amos
Scarlet's Walk

THE REVIEW

Why did Tori Amos release "Strange Little Girls"? Lack of ideas? A need to stall? In any case, something was wrong.

Why throw at us an album of covers like that (allow me: Tori Amos's worst album) a full two years after the confusing (and not therefore entirely bad) "To Venus And Back"? What was undermining the creativity of an artist who, just a few years prior, had charmed the music market with four of the most beautiful albums ever? The fact is that our (my) doubts finally dissipate with the release of this "Scarlet's Walk", the best Tori Amos album since "From The Choirgirl Hotel".

Amos has naturally changed. Electronic instrumentations are abandoned in favor of a simpler and more linear sound, dangerously balanced between the sound that made her famous and a more comfortable pop-rock (it seems that in this way Tori has found her ideal dimension, as "The Beekeeper" will follow its pattern). "Amber Waves" is a flawless prologue. Rhythm at the forefront, doubled voices, time changes. And the sensuality with which she sings "tell the Northern Lights to keep shining" is worth, alone, the purchase of the cd. The miracle repeats itself with "A Sorta Fairytale", the first single released (watch the video, the kiss between her and Adrien Brody is chilling), with piano and drums as protagonists. This pairing centers much of the work. But also guitar, as in the following "Wednesday", or African percussion ("Don't Make Me Come To Vegas"). Tori Amos travels through America rediscovering places (you'll find a map...), people, customs. But it is impossible to remain silent in the face of the great tragedies that afflict it. Thus, Scarlet's (Tori's alter ego, who embodies the artist and the woman [American] in her) bewilderment is explained in front of a sick New York, in one of the most moving and passionate tracks of the red-haired singer-songwriter ("I Can't See New York").

The album, overall rather subdued, flows smoothly between immense compositions ("Carbon" and the painful "Pancake", made unique by our dirty and hoarse voice) and others more subdued ("Crazy" and "Don't Make Me Come To Vegas", almost annoying). The 74 minutes of music are frankly too much, and the work would certainly have been more cohesive and balanced if some songs had been omitted. In any case, "Virginia", a treasure to be jealously guarded, and "Gold Dust", dedicated to the daughter's birthday, hope, and consolation ("Enjoy her every cry").

Tori Amos is there, albeit a few years older and a few ideas less (to be clear, she will never write another "Professional Widow"), but her creative vein, fortunately, has not yet extinguished. Rediscover her.