The show was a welcome reminder of what a virtuosic musician and performer Amos has always been.
Released in 1998, Amos's fourth studio album found the singer-songwriter dabbling in rock and electronic sounds.
Tori Amos's debut album, Little Earthquakes, helped reshape the pop landscape and the reverberations can still be felt today.
With Ocean to Ocean, it seems as if Tori Amos has all but given up on pushing the limits of her instrument.
Like Scarlet’s Walk, the album is a concept album that surveys America post-catastrophe.
Her recent rendition of “Frozen” breathtakingly reinvented the queen of pop’s icy electro-pop hit from 1998 into a stirring, nuanced keyboard dirge.
If Tori Amos's Unrepentant Geraldines is indeed visual art, it’s more of a polite Norman Rockwell than a vomit-stained Sherman.
Tori Amos's Gold Dust has the feel of a concert album, and is thus inessential to everyone but her die-hard fans.
The more direct songs transcend the trappings of the album’s rigid construct.
For an artist who’s made a career out of subverting Christian imagery, Tori Amos comes off surprisingly reverent on Midwinter Graces.
In her best work, even when she’s being precious, there’s an underlying force and anger that threatens to shatter everything into little pieces.
The album emerges as a thoughtful, dense exploration of matters of faith, sanctimony, and vice.
A glorified karaoke bar isn’t exactly the kind of place you’d expect to find an artist with a career as varied and prolific as Tori Amos’s.
The songs on American Doll Posse that really work are reminders of how gifted a songwriter Amos is.
Despite the generally poor digital transfers, the set is still worth owning for Toriphiles and music video aficionados.
Like almost every Tori Amos album, there’s a wealth of mythology behind The Beekeeper.
Tori Amos’s Tales of a Librarian might just be one of the most ambitious greatest hits collections ever made.
Little Earthquakes is largely concerned with reconciling or reflecting on the past, particularly Tori Amos’s youth.
Yep, she still squirms and straddles her piano bench like she’s wielding an electric guitar.
On her seventh studio album, Tori Amos traces her steps across a post-9/11 America.