You can find a review of The Beekeeper at the U.K. web site Fake DIY. This one gives the album 4 stars out of 5.
You can read the review online at www.thisisfakediy.co.uk or below:
Tori Amos - The Beekeeper
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Cornwall-dwelling kooky monster Tori Amos has been in on the quirky-something craze for over a decade now, peddling her own brand of myth-laden lyrics set to unconventional instrumentation since 1992's 'Little Earthquakes' broke records and topped charts the world over.
And, since Armand Van Helden spruced up 1996's 'Professional Widow' to feature looped samples and phat beats, Amos has always expressed a knack for hitching a ride on any passing bandwagon before trends become too tame, and 'The Beekeeper' is no exception. Lead single 'Sleeps With Butterflies' was obviously written with an adult contemporary market in mind, whilst the amusingly-titled 'Power of Orange Knickers' - featuring backing vocals courtesy of last year's golden boy Damien Rice - cashes in on the current trend for jaunty, piano-lead pop.
However, it's not all happy-go-lucky, sunny sing-a-longs; as with Madonna on her first post-wedding album, music, marriage and motherhood have yet to tame Amos's raw sexuality. Quite the contrary, in fact; the tongue-in-cheek, Santana-aping 'Sweet The Sting' sees Tori purring lyrics reminiscent of Carly Simon's 'You're So Vain' over a laid-back lounge-funk groove, whilst the metaphor-laden 'Cars and Guitars' has her crying out for the man in her life to 'Polish my rims'.
Fans of a more traditional sound needn't be disappointed, either - the stripped back 'Original Sinsuality' sees Amos pull up her piano stool for a tuneful musing on Biblical mythology, while the emotional 'Toast' (a last-minute addition after Tori lost her brother, Michael, to a car accident late last year) sees a return to form in terms of the more confessional songwriting which has always been her forte.
It's not all good news, though; the obligatory dedication to daughter Natashya, 'Ribbons Undone', is cringe-inducingly self-indulgent, and the seven minute title track meanders along in quite the way you'd expect a seven minute Tori Amos song to do, ie. with little resolution. At a mammoth nineteen tracks, it's around half an hour too long, but that's the way it is with Amos; too often it's quantity over quality - when she's good, she's very, very good, when she's bad she's atrocious.
Writer: Michael Richardson