Tori Amos - To Venus And Back

Tori Amos - To Venus And Back VBR

Year 1999

Disc 1
1. Bliss 3:42
2. Juarez 3:48
3. Concertina 3:56
4. Glory Of The 80s 4:03
5. Lust 3:53
6. Suede 4:58
7. Josephine 2:29
8. Riot Proof 3:28
9. Datura 8:25
10. Spring Haze 4:44
11. 1000 Oceans 4:19

Disc 2
1. Precious Things 7:37
2. Cruel 6:47
3. Cornflake Girl 6:32
4. Bells For Her 5:42
5. Girl 4:15
6. Cooling 5:09
7. Mr. Zebra 1:17
8. Cloud On My Tongue 4:58
9. Sugar 5:10
10. Little Earthquakes 7:37
11. Space Dog 5:46
12. The Waitress 10:24
13. Purple People 4:11

For many pop-music cynics, excess can be neatly summed up in three things: live albums, double-CD's, and Tori Amos records. Damned if To Venus and Back doesn't hit the trifecta. But perhaps Amos is just trying to prove what we've always suspected: that her muse possesses a sly, ironic wit and has been frantically trying to give us a wink while Tori whipped up her heady cocktail of quiet Sturm, desperate Drang, and angst in the panties. There's teasing moments on this double-dose of Tori's love affair with her own melodic and mystical dramaturgy to support that notion, even in the disc of powerful new studio recordings that inaugurates this set. Dubbing a song "Glory of the 80's" is burlesque enough, but yearning to have oneself cloned as Kim Carnes at its climax is simply inspired. Amos is to Kate Bush's distaff mysticism what Mark McGwire was to Roger Maris; she hasn't so much broken the mold as willfully hammered it into her own image. After Bush hit the snooze-bar on her career in the late `80s, Amos boldly stepped into the fray, building a body of work that demanded to be taken seriously, even while the thrift-store chic set were laughing up their tattered sleeves at her ambitious chutzpah. They're not laughing now; in fact, many may find Venus to be a deliciously guilty pleasure. Amos supporters have long maintained that the key to understanding her intrigue lies in her live performances. Disc two boldly states their case as Amos coos, whoops, and warbles through a hit-sprinkled set, her shrewd, sorely undervalued band hanging with every nuance and turn of phrase. Cynics are from Mars; Tori is from Venus--that's just the way her galaxy crumbles.