A press review of Tori's Sept 9, 2005 Ridgefield/Portland concert and her performance the following day at the KINK radio Live Eight show appeared in the September 14, 2005 edition of The Oregonian.
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Thanks to Dain for telling me about this press review, which you can read at oregonlive.com or below:
Tori Amos' 'Beekeeper' tour sweet without sting
SCOTT D. LEWIS
You never can tell what kind of show you will get from Tori Amos, and as Portland-area music fans found out this weekend, you can't even tell when you'll get a Tori Amos show. Supporting her ninth album, the loosely conceptual "The Beekeeper," Amos nearly filled the seats of the Amphitheater at Clark County on Friday night and nearly filled the stage with her black Bosendorfer grand piano, two organs and electric keyboard.
\No band, no backup singers, no elaborate stage setup -- it was a night of Amos and her toys before a flock of fans. Amos' fans are adoring, and it took little more than a note pounded on the piano and a sharp, wry look from Amos to get them cheering.
Amos felt the love, saying her "Summer of Sin" tour include a stop in the Portland area. Then she spun out a silly little ditty praising Oregon's resources that "leave holes in your head," including the quality coffee and the state's progressive legislation.
Most of the night, however, focused on Amos' recent bundle of songs, which hasn't seen much airtime outside the homes and cars of her dedicated followers.
Amos' unannounced appearance at KINK radio's "Live Eight" concert at Pioneer Courthouse Square on Saturday night was more of a populist event. After a less-than-overwhelming welcome, Amos, sitting at her piano in her typical sidesaddle fashion, glided through six subtle and stretched-out versions of her better-known songs, half of which were culled from her groundbreaking solo debut, "Little Earthquakes."
Her voice became a delicate, exquisite screech for the album's lead track, "Crucify," and her elaborate piano fills lent a fresh, adventurous side to the song's anguished spirit. Even "Leather," one of Amos' stormiest songs, was infused with a sense of mystery and a dash of playfulness. Amos is no longer the tortured soul we first met nearly 15 years ago. She's purged her past, dealt with her demons and no longer finds herself her own worst enemy. Her newer, somewhat fanciful material and her treatment of her own gnawed-nerve musical roots showed a sense of security, safety and serenity.
Scott D. Lewis is a Portland freelance writer. He can be reached at JonezinMzk@aol.com.
