Have you ever wondered what the "fuss" about Tori Amos was? Have you perhaps heard one of her more successful singles in recent years (say, A Sorta Fairytale or Sleeps With Butterflies) and perhaps, blasphemy of blasphemies, thought she was a bit lightweight, a bit trite, a bit, dare we say it, uninteresting?
Well, if you did think those things, you would be wrong, and From the Choirgirl Hotel is the album to prove that to you. Choirgirl is a lot of things, but lightweight is not one of those. It is a dark, dense, intense, harrowing, experimental and adventerous trip, where your guide is 1/2 Sylvia Plath and 1/2 Chopin, with dashes of Massive Attack and Jimmi-Hendrix-if-he-had-taken-up-piano (for flavour).
I am an unabashed Tori Amos fan. I will admit that I'm biased in her favour. I would rate all of her 8 major studio albums from "good" to "amazing," having come to her music as a hard-core piano student during the mid-90's, when songs like "Blood Roses" and "Father Lucifer" seemed more like Bach and Debussy than like anything else on the airwaves at the time.
But why chose this album, then, as it marks the now 8-year trend of Tori moving away from the baroque, challenging, symphonic compositions that characterized her first three albums? Choirgirl was the start of her break for the mainstream, a move that culminated in 2005's disappointing MOR-mush of "The Beekeeper." It seems rather odd that I would venerate it above all others.
I do so because, while 'Choirgirl' is one of Tori's most accessible albums (especially for fans of dark alternative rock), it also shows her at the top of her game as a songwriter and instrumentalist.
Even though, for the first time, the piano took a backseat in some songs and was entirely absent from one (the slinky, sexy "cruel"), this album also contains some of her most breath-taking passages at the keyboard. Listen to the bridges of "Spark" and "Black Dove," the improvisational sections of "Liquid Diamonds," the piano breakdown in the 4th section of the multi-movemental "Hotel," the lithe, graceful playing of "Jackie's Strength," and the accomplished jazz stylings of "Pandora's Aquarium." All of these moments stand as testament to the fact that Tori started her life in the world of music at age 3, as a child prodigy, and that, if she had applied herself in a different direction, she could legitimately make it as a concert pianist with a classical repetoire.
This album is hard-hitting. Each track is a gem; the weakest of the set would be a standout on any album by a lesser talent. What's more, she doesn't bog the album down with filler (as in "The Beekeeper") or sometimes lose herself in self-indulgent ramblings (as can be argued for "Boys for Pele"). Sure, the lyrical ambiguity is here as per usual, but the ratio of comprehensible metaphors to head-scratchers is balanced in the former's favour.
"From the Choirgirl Hotel" is tight. Over the 50-odd minutes it takes to play the album from start to finish, its 12 tracks are 12 musical punches to the gut, and if you give it your time and your attention, I'm sure you will finally understand what the fuss about Tori Amos is.