News Archives
Keep an eye on our Twitter and Facebook pages since we often post quickie updates there when we're on-the-go.
During tours, we do our best to cover setlists in real-time on Twitter. If you want to tweet a show in, just DM or @ us on the day and tell us to watch your stream that night.
Tori is touring in 2017 to support the release of Native Invader. The European legs runs from early September through early October and the North American leg runs from late October to early December. We do not know if additional dates elsewhere will be added.
A.D. Amorosi reviewed the October 15th concert at Upper Darby’s Tower Theatre for the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Tori Amos takes her album on tour
By A.D. Amorosi
For The Inquirer
Posted on Wed, Oct. 17, 2007
After all these years of singing through the harrowing voices in her head, it’s about time Tori Amos came up with a concept album and tour that allowed her to wear wigs. American Doll Posse let Amos do that – funnel her wrung-out emotions and icy rhetoric through witty/catty/cloying/sexy alter egos based upon Greek myth. That each character happens to be a powerhouse pianist with slamming hard hands and a glittery wardrobe – that’s just win/win.
Each show gets its own Act I persona. Monday’s sold-out Tower Theater gig belonged to “Santa.” This white-wigged sensualist’s feline wiles gave the honking “Body and Soul,” the growling “Sugar” and “Hoochie Woman” (conga-driven with a “Watermelon Man” vibe) a slinky feel unusual in Amos’ catalog.
An orange-haired Amos started Act II, kicking through the Southern chug of “Big Wheel.” With Matt Chamberlain, pop’s most inventive drummer behind her, the waltzing spirit of “Spark” and the oddly angled beats of “Code Red” offered Amos’ chilling melodies a doubly sinister pulse.
One cannot overstate the fearful/tearful atmosphere of Amos’ compositions. While bassist Jon Evans and guitarist Dan Phelps swelled even the barest tracks (“Hey Jupiter”) with a nervy ambience, Amos made her own racket.
Bent between a grand piano and a bank of keyboards, Amos the player was athletic and controlled. (She’s no dancer.) As a singer, Amos used her manic vocals like a dagger – poking through the cabaret of “Leather” with a softly chilling yet pointed timbre. By the time she got to the braying likes of “Hotel,” she went in fiercely for the kill. Now that’s entertainment.