Worried about Tori Amos
May. 24th, 2010 04:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labingiLast in my spate of journal updating, thoughts that have been long brewing about the career trajectory of Tori Amos, who, let's be clear, is my favorite pop singer/songwriter ever, ever, ever by a mile. I'm not going to say anything not abundantly said on Amazon.com comments on her recent releases, but I want to chew it over in my own words.
The Love Affair
I love Tori's music! The presence of her art in my life has been one of the greatest boons to my imagination--and the greatest boon by far to my musical appreciation--in the past ten years (which is about how long I've known her work). I like Tori, too, from what I know of her. I haven't gone out of my way to read a lot of biography, but I've picked things up over the years. I agree with her politics in general, and she seems a very strong and admirable person. I consider her a prodigiously talented and skilled lyricist and musician and performer.
To add some further context, I am very picky in my musical tastes. On most CDs I've gone out of my way to purchase out of attachment to some song, I find nothing worth listening to but that song (ex. Rush, Roll the Bones). I'm doing well if I find two (ex. R.E.M, Out of Time). I consider myself a fan if I find three (ex. Boa, Twilight, actually has 3 1/2). On Little Earthquakes, I am significantly attached to nine out of twelve, and of the remaining three, I consider two very good, just too sad for me to want to listen to them (that's "China" and "Me and a Gun," by the way).
The Decline
LE is a tour de force that Tori has never topped, but to her credit, she has not attempted to repeat it. The evolution of her music, if never again as amazing as LE, shows a variety and emotional development that is well worth the shift and (comparative) decline. Thus, I wasn't terribly distressed or inclined to be judgmental when I found the knew releases starting to strike my ear as dull:
Scarlett's Walk was mostly mush to my ear at first, but it resolved itself into a quieter, more tempered sound that generates a lot of excellent songs.
The Beekeeper I seem to like more than the general reviews. Though I like less than half of the songs (a notable decline from the pre-2000 releases), I still enjoy a good five or six, well into the "good purchase" realm. The sound, again, is duller, less creative, but still of a goodness.
American Doll Posse I cannot accuse of being quiet. It's known for sounding more rocky than other recent releases. But it's not an interesting rock, by and large. The music is repetitive; it lacks the careful build and variation that marks most every song in LE.
Then came Abnormally Attracted to Sin. It's still sort of squeaking into "fan" territory by having at least three songs I find worth sometimes listening to, but boy, I can no longer deny that something uncomfortable has happened. Again, many of the songs sound repetitive. The music lacks luster, variation, crescendo. But what worries me more, as a lyrics person, is the words.
The Words
In LE, Tori does old school feminism with enormous flair. She writes girls and young women oppressed by religion, parents, men, expectations, etc., fighting to be themselves: sexual, intelligent, emotional, empowered. She writes almost exclusively with a first person focus (an exception is "Girl"), which voices her oppressed girls with tremendous power and humanity. It's sad and angsty and needs to be said, and it's great! "Sometimes I hear my voice," indeed.
This is paradigmatic of her pre-2000 work. The narrators of the songs get arguably a bit older, new themes are explored, some more generalized social observation (ex. "Muhammad by Friend"). A bit more emphasis on second or third person (or generalized) narratives emerges (ex. "Iieee" or however you spell it, "Professional Widow," etc., etc.). This is good; it's new. Other songs retain the old focus on the internal and interrelational struggles of the "I" (ex. "Spark," "Waitress," "Bliss"). The women presented in the songs get stronger, more self-assured (ex. "Raspberry Swirl," "Suede"). That's all admirable artistic evolution. I think that, by and large, it's retained throughout SW and TB, though the power of the music does not keep pace with the power of the themes.
Throughout this long evolution, her songs contain that famously Tori, often incomprehensible poetry that makes them so rich. She may mean one thing in writing them, but I see something else, or ten somethings. They speak beyond literal themes to universal experience. Thus, a song like "Space Dog," which I can't make head or tail out of in any coherent way, is still one I love and feel deeply; I don't need anything beyond "So sure we were on something" for that.
But around and about ADP, I find myself too often annoyed. The self-expressive, self-searching "I" begins too often to be replaced by a simplistic preaching to you--or merely by the simplistic. Now, I agree with Tori about George Bush and the Iraq War, but I'm darned if I can find any message in "Yo George" or "The Dark Side of the Sun" (despite its lovely music) that goes beyond "George Bush sucks, and the Iraq War is messy and destructive." I can say that in 11 words. I don't need two songs about it. Worse is waxing holier than thou (very much the social stance that hurts the girls we meet in LE). "Digital Ghost" is a big offender for me here, which is frustrating because the music, again, is lovely. But the message is, "You, poor sad person, are addicted to the internet, and you think you're living but you're not." Now, internet addiction exists, but the whole song reads as someone who grew up pre-internet and just doesn't get how online interactions are real to many people. The one sidedness preaching of it prompts nothing in me but objections. (The same content could have made a powerful, subtle "I" song in LE mode.)
AATS, sadly, continues this trend. I really want to like the title song; it, too, has some nice musical resonance. But as many times as I pour over the lyrics, I can't find anything in it. It seems to be saying, "People in church will tell you [it's another "you" song] that sex is sinful, but you'll still choose sex instead of church, as well you should." I don't know what to say. That this is kind of retro? That most of the conservative religious people I meet today have no problem with people "living in sin"? Or--knowing that many still do--that it's just not an interesting way to discuss it. To hearken back to probably the strongest single song on ADP (a return to the old form), how about "Body and Soul," where sex and religion meet? How about "Crucify," for that matter, where the heaping of religious guilt becomes a basis for real philosophical questioning: "Why do we crucify ourselves every day?" She's already said it and said it better.
One of my favorite songs on AATS is "Police Me." It's cute and catchy, and I find the way you can break up the chorus into different meanings depending on how you punctuate it genuinely clever (who is "storming"? "he" or "Blackberry Girl"?). It's also an example of a rather lazy repetitiveness. Even that clever chorus goes on too long--and with no variation whatever. The listener has to do 100% of the work of the punctuating. How much more interesting it would be if the music itself, just subtly, changed the stops. Indeed, the song doesn't have many lyrics at all. I don't need to hear three repetitions of them in exactly the same way.
My least favorite song in AATS is "Give," again, a frustration because the music is good. How to describe this song? Pretentious? Conceited? "Everybody else is kind of shallow and stupid, but I give love (unlike the rest of the world, who has no clue that love is the big secret)." She should know better.
She is better than this!
That's why I'm frustrated enough to write this rant, one that I feel is rather too personal, aimed at someone I deeply admire, who is a complete stranger to me, and discussing her career as if I actually knew something about her personal development and feelings. All I know is what I hear. I don't want to judge her on the basis of her artistic output. And as an artist, she still has talent, and she brings me enjoyment. But she used to bring me joy. She could again. There is nothing in her that cannot write fascinating music and brilliant, poetical ideas. We know she can. But several years into a worsening slump, I am starting to worry that we won't see it.
The Love Affair
I love Tori's music! The presence of her art in my life has been one of the greatest boons to my imagination--and the greatest boon by far to my musical appreciation--in the past ten years (which is about how long I've known her work). I like Tori, too, from what I know of her. I haven't gone out of my way to read a lot of biography, but I've picked things up over the years. I agree with her politics in general, and she seems a very strong and admirable person. I consider her a prodigiously talented and skilled lyricist and musician and performer.
To add some further context, I am very picky in my musical tastes. On most CDs I've gone out of my way to purchase out of attachment to some song, I find nothing worth listening to but that song (ex. Rush, Roll the Bones). I'm doing well if I find two (ex. R.E.M, Out of Time). I consider myself a fan if I find three (ex. Boa, Twilight, actually has 3 1/2). On Little Earthquakes, I am significantly attached to nine out of twelve, and of the remaining three, I consider two very good, just too sad for me to want to listen to them (that's "China" and "Me and a Gun," by the way).
The Decline
LE is a tour de force that Tori has never topped, but to her credit, she has not attempted to repeat it. The evolution of her music, if never again as amazing as LE, shows a variety and emotional development that is well worth the shift and (comparative) decline. Thus, I wasn't terribly distressed or inclined to be judgmental when I found the knew releases starting to strike my ear as dull:
Scarlett's Walk was mostly mush to my ear at first, but it resolved itself into a quieter, more tempered sound that generates a lot of excellent songs.
The Beekeeper I seem to like more than the general reviews. Though I like less than half of the songs (a notable decline from the pre-2000 releases), I still enjoy a good five or six, well into the "good purchase" realm. The sound, again, is duller, less creative, but still of a goodness.
American Doll Posse I cannot accuse of being quiet. It's known for sounding more rocky than other recent releases. But it's not an interesting rock, by and large. The music is repetitive; it lacks the careful build and variation that marks most every song in LE.
Then came Abnormally Attracted to Sin. It's still sort of squeaking into "fan" territory by having at least three songs I find worth sometimes listening to, but boy, I can no longer deny that something uncomfortable has happened. Again, many of the songs sound repetitive. The music lacks luster, variation, crescendo. But what worries me more, as a lyrics person, is the words.
The Words
In LE, Tori does old school feminism with enormous flair. She writes girls and young women oppressed by religion, parents, men, expectations, etc., fighting to be themselves: sexual, intelligent, emotional, empowered. She writes almost exclusively with a first person focus (an exception is "Girl"), which voices her oppressed girls with tremendous power and humanity. It's sad and angsty and needs to be said, and it's great! "Sometimes I hear my voice," indeed.
This is paradigmatic of her pre-2000 work. The narrators of the songs get arguably a bit older, new themes are explored, some more generalized social observation (ex. "Muhammad by Friend"). A bit more emphasis on second or third person (or generalized) narratives emerges (ex. "Iieee" or however you spell it, "Professional Widow," etc., etc.). This is good; it's new. Other songs retain the old focus on the internal and interrelational struggles of the "I" (ex. "Spark," "Waitress," "Bliss"). The women presented in the songs get stronger, more self-assured (ex. "Raspberry Swirl," "Suede"). That's all admirable artistic evolution. I think that, by and large, it's retained throughout SW and TB, though the power of the music does not keep pace with the power of the themes.
Throughout this long evolution, her songs contain that famously Tori, often incomprehensible poetry that makes them so rich. She may mean one thing in writing them, but I see something else, or ten somethings. They speak beyond literal themes to universal experience. Thus, a song like "Space Dog," which I can't make head or tail out of in any coherent way, is still one I love and feel deeply; I don't need anything beyond "So sure we were on something" for that.
But around and about ADP, I find myself too often annoyed. The self-expressive, self-searching "I" begins too often to be replaced by a simplistic preaching to you--or merely by the simplistic. Now, I agree with Tori about George Bush and the Iraq War, but I'm darned if I can find any message in "Yo George" or "The Dark Side of the Sun" (despite its lovely music) that goes beyond "George Bush sucks, and the Iraq War is messy and destructive." I can say that in 11 words. I don't need two songs about it. Worse is waxing holier than thou (very much the social stance that hurts the girls we meet in LE). "Digital Ghost" is a big offender for me here, which is frustrating because the music, again, is lovely. But the message is, "You, poor sad person, are addicted to the internet, and you think you're living but you're not." Now, internet addiction exists, but the whole song reads as someone who grew up pre-internet and just doesn't get how online interactions are real to many people. The one sidedness preaching of it prompts nothing in me but objections. (The same content could have made a powerful, subtle "I" song in LE mode.)
AATS, sadly, continues this trend. I really want to like the title song; it, too, has some nice musical resonance. But as many times as I pour over the lyrics, I can't find anything in it. It seems to be saying, "People in church will tell you [it's another "you" song] that sex is sinful, but you'll still choose sex instead of church, as well you should." I don't know what to say. That this is kind of retro? That most of the conservative religious people I meet today have no problem with people "living in sin"? Or--knowing that many still do--that it's just not an interesting way to discuss it. To hearken back to probably the strongest single song on ADP (a return to the old form), how about "Body and Soul," where sex and religion meet? How about "Crucify," for that matter, where the heaping of religious guilt becomes a basis for real philosophical questioning: "Why do we crucify ourselves every day?" She's already said it and said it better.
One of my favorite songs on AATS is "Police Me." It's cute and catchy, and I find the way you can break up the chorus into different meanings depending on how you punctuate it genuinely clever (who is "storming"? "he" or "Blackberry Girl"?). It's also an example of a rather lazy repetitiveness. Even that clever chorus goes on too long--and with no variation whatever. The listener has to do 100% of the work of the punctuating. How much more interesting it would be if the music itself, just subtly, changed the stops. Indeed, the song doesn't have many lyrics at all. I don't need to hear three repetitions of them in exactly the same way.
My least favorite song in AATS is "Give," again, a frustration because the music is good. How to describe this song? Pretentious? Conceited? "Everybody else is kind of shallow and stupid, but I give love (unlike the rest of the world, who has no clue that love is the big secret)." She should know better.
She is better than this!
That's why I'm frustrated enough to write this rant, one that I feel is rather too personal, aimed at someone I deeply admire, who is a complete stranger to me, and discussing her career as if I actually knew something about her personal development and feelings. All I know is what I hear. I don't want to judge her on the basis of her artistic output. And as an artist, she still has talent, and she brings me enjoyment. But she used to bring me joy. She could again. There is nothing in her that cannot write fascinating music and brilliant, poetical ideas. We know she can. But several years into a worsening slump, I am starting to worry that we won't see it.
