Let's talk about Tori Amos. Now, I know many consider her stuff to be lesbian music, kind of like the musical version of a chick flick, but she had a great run of a couple of albums: Little Earthquakes and Under the Pink. If you don't know her, she's kind of posh British-sounding sometimes, even though she's from somewhere in Carolina. I was never attracted to her per se, but after years of seeing her on the album covers and getting mind-fu**ed by her opaque oft-dense lyrics, somehow I find myself with a bit of a thing for smart redheads. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell a cornflake girl is. And when she says, "God, sometimes, you don't come through." Is she talking to a lover, or referring to God? I spent years subconsciously pondering this shit, never really being able to connect the dots. It's the same thing, I suppose, that kept me going on Pink Floyd. Pretty Good Music, with promise of something deeper under the surface that you never can quite grasp; always tantalizingly close, yet just out of reach. But anyway, this is getting long. So, she follows up these two amazing albums with this stinking piece of, um, well, you get the idea.
Yeah, that's right, she's breast-feeding a pig. I should have known then.
Perhaps the title: Boys For Pele should have stopped me dead. It did kind of conjure up images of soccer ball wielding pedophiles, hmmm ... The real meaning of the title is even worse. In her own words:"First I wanted to sacrifice all these guys to the volcano goddess (Pele) and roast them like marshmallows, then I decided they gave me a really wonderful gift." She's referring to her ex boyfriends. Alanis Morrisette's You Ought to Know spewed that scorned rage in a way we all could appreciate, but Tori's reaction to rejection was just too deep and intellectually obscure and well, musically uninspired to offer any hope for this stinking piece of - (oh, that's right, I already called it that). Ironically, it debuted at #2 simultaneously in the US and the UK. I'm sure there were millions of us back in 1996 wishing we could have our $20 back. Maybe I'll try it again. It's been fifteen years, perhaps I'm more in touch with my inner angry self-actualizing empowered piglet breast-feeding feminine self.
Now that I think about it, I'm afraid it's going to collect dust for another decade and a half.
Great thread idea btw.