TORI AMOS
American Doll Posse
Epic
· Remember when Gwen Stefani paid those four Asian women to follow her around for her last record? She’s got nothing on Tori Amos.
Tori Amos is crazy. And I’m not just talking about that video where she morphed into a fox (but that was pretty freaking crazy). For her 12th album, Amos has a bout of multiple personality disorder and shares songwriting credit with four of her own pseudonyms – Clyde, Santa, Isabel and Pip. In addition to giving album designers a chance to go buck wild with Photoshop, it gives Amos a chance to veer all over the musical map. In addition to the cascading piano ballads that she has become synonymous with, she delivers glorified spoken-word rants, raging ’70s rockers and sultry burlesque guitar riffs. All this wouldn’t matter one bit if the album wasn’t pretty good. Even more angry than usual (which is pretty angry), Amos has politicized her songwriting to an effective extent. The album pushes the 80-minute limit of CD technology – that’s what happens when you have five songwriters, I guess – and as a result it’s a little long, but American Doll Posse proves once again, there is a method to Amos’s madness.
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