TORI AMOS

At the Fleet Center

August 1, 1998

The Fleet Center, the massive new home to most of Boston's major league sports teams, hardly seems like the appropriate forum in which to showcase Tori Amos and her piano-playing skills. Her intense performances and haunting, almost ethereal songs would surely get lost in the monstrosity of a sports arena that resembles the interior cargo area of a spaceship more closely than it does a concert hall. Besides, if the area itself didn't drown Amos and her talents, surely the throngs of screaming goth-clad alternateens would.

Fortunately, Amos was prepared for such a challenge last Saturday night--she brought along a band. While this certainly solved the problem of sound (or created more problems, depending on how you look at the situation), it also raised many questions, the most predominant one being, quite simply, "Why?" Amos built her style and reputation around her unique and passionate keyboarding skills. Why are a lead guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer so necessary now? Was it to better showcase the songs off her latest album, from the choirgirl hotel, which does not contain as many all-acoustic songs as her previous albums have? Or is it precisely because Amos now wants to play in arenas like the Fleet Center, with its copious quantities of seats and t-shirt sales and the opportunity to play on an enormous stage with a huge light show going on behind her? Has Tori Amos--gasp--sold out?

Although the answer could easily be construed as either "Yes" or "No," the general consensus is torn. In a nutshell, Amos' performance at the Fleet Center was electrifying, dazzling and very very very loud. But she exchanged her dazzling range of singing ability for mere volume, and the result was unlike anything she had ever sang before. Quantity came before quality, and even though it gave her a chance to, for lack of a better phrase, "rock out" unlike she ever had before, it still short-changed the fans who wanted to experience a new and deeper level of Amos' songs. In addition, the poor newcomers who didn't know any of the words to her songs certainly didn't hear them that night.

The Devlins, the opening band, played a decent but unimpressive set. They received enthusiastic applause after every number, but when the lead singer thanked Tori for asking them to play, the roars were almost deafening, signifying who everyone was really there to see. Although it took over half an hour to set up the stage after the Devlins left, in only a matter of seconds the lights dimmed, the black curtain at the front of the stage was ripped down, the band started up and Tori Amos--clad in a dazzling blue sequined dress and black leggings--waved hello to the crowd and took her place behind the piano. And the synthesizer.

The bass lines sounded familiar, but not until Amos began the piercing piano riff was it clear that the first song was "Precious Things," a gut-wrenching number from Little Earthquakes, her first album. While the opening notes brought tears to the eyes of many Tori devotees, the volume of the guitars and drums seriously muffled Amos' passion-filled voice. The speakers sounded filled to capacity, and unfortunately, with only a few exceptions, they remained maxed out for the remainder of the evening.

Next on Amos' list was "Cruel," from her latest album, which utilized the more subtle qualities of the stage lights and the band with fantastic results. "Caught a Lite Sneeze," one of the less disheveled but still haunting songs from Boys for Pele, was played next, with a charming amount of more energy and less eerieness. Amos then reverted into her good old acoustic charm with "Jackie's Strength," also from choirgirl hotel, and preceded it with a happy little speech about her recent marriage that drew delighted cheers from the adoring audience.

The rest of the evening maintained the same mixed feelings but nonetheless high energy that it had started out with. High-lights included a poignant rendition of "Winter" (thankfully minus the band), a fantastic back-to-back duo of "Spark" and "Raspberry Swirl" (two of choirgirl hotel's faster songs) and a much too long improvisation on "Waitress." While Amos unfortunately didn't end the concert with her usual, disarmingly emotional version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," she did come back for two encores, though her enthusiasm seemed to be dissipating by the second one.

While it would be easy to hold the evening's shortcomings against Tori Amos and believe that she is beginning to sell out, this is an accusation that many of her more long-time and devoted fans don't want to make quite yet. Perhaps she is only steering slightly in an unexplored direction rather than taking the plunge full-force into the mainstream. The concert was disappointing in many ways, but the sheer volume of the songs still felt like a nice energy release for music that has so much emotion swirling inside of it. In addition, the gargantuousness of the Fleet Center prevented a good 75 percent of the audience from having a decent view of Amos (from this reporter's seat, she seemed to be wearing her hair in a ponytail, but I can't be sure). But at least the sheer size of the arena enables people of all crowds--from the teenyboppers to the sensitive adults to the occasional college-aged cynic with a heart of gold--to enjoy her music first-hand, and to be a part of the mystical magic that is Tori Amos, even if for only a little while.