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.
Thanks to Mike Fisher for linking us to Joe Sweeney’s review of the October 24th show at Shea’s Performing Arts Center, published in the October 25th edition of The Buffalo News.
Tori Amos hits some high notes
By Joe Sweeney NEWS CONTRIBUTING REVIEWER
Tori Amos is a talented songwriter, masterful pianist, consummate performer and — let’s face it, people — a big flake. In the early to mid ’90s, when Amos was at the peak of her powers, the songs were so good, it didn’t matter that she talked about them as if they were people. But in the years after her triumphant trilogy [1991’s “Little Earthquakes,” 1994’s “Under the Pink” and 1996’s “Boys for Pele”], her records got more conceptual, and way more uneven.
So when the singer/songwriter walked onto the stage in Shea’s Performing Arts Center dressed as one of five alter-egos that she embodies on her latest record, “American Doll Posse,” one had to worry that this show was going to favor theatrics over substance. [It doesn’t help that these characters are named Tori, Santa, Pip, Clyde and Isabel.]
Luckily, Amos and her excellent three-piece band had a few inspired performances up their sleeves. The show started with the “American Doll Posse” track “Bouncing Off Clouds,” a tune that has all the elements of classic Amos — a catchy, ethereal, Kate Bush-like melody, driving rhythm and charmingly obtuse lyrics like “paint it in mint ice cream.” This was abruptly followed with “Little Earthquakes,” one of the artist’s most effective ballads. The band sucked every drop of melodrama out of the arrangement, slowly building the momentum up to a pull-out-all-the-stops ending that belies Amos’ admitted infatuation with Led Zeppelin.
Later on, came the night’s shining moment. The band ripped into “Big Wheel,” a “Doll Posse” cut that’s the most imaginative thing Amos has done in over a decade. The dark, driving boogie seems readymade for the next White Stripes album, and it found the band transcending the “Doll Posse” stage act and just laying into the groove.
Unsurprisingly, this tune contained the only unscripted thing I could discern — while delivering the countdown that dominates the song’s bridge [“gimme seven, gimme six . . .”], Amos came in too early, throwing her band off ever-so-slightly. The singer reacted to her blunder by shouting a string of curses, in perfect rhythm with the music.
It was unexpected, unplanned, and a major highlight.
While these moments showed that Amos can still grab hold of an audience, too many of the numbers just didn’t stand out, like the “To Venus and Back” dud “Juarez” and the underwhelming “Doll Posse” track “Girl Disappearing.”