Many thanks to Lucy for sending this to the Dent.
Amos mixes rich batter of music to serve audience satisfying treat Clad in what looked like Joseph's amazing technicolor dreamcoat but tailored for a dainty, red-headed siren, Tori Amos made the Brady Theater crowd swoon Sunday night.
Her fans soaked her up like she was some cuckoo medicine doctors' remedy for all their pain and adolescent turmoil.
Her lyrics were mystical recitations that hypnotized her loyal hordes and convinced them that there wasn't blood being spilled in Iraq, everything else was hunky-dory in the world and to bark like dogs -- well, maybe not the latter.
During her two-hour set -- complete with two encores -- Amos played a wide array of songs dating back to her landmark 1991 album "Little Earthquakes" and up to her most recent LP "Scarlett's Walk," a concept album about a young girl asking tough questions in a post-9/11 world.
When Amos writes songs she strip-mines the dark, hidden parts of her soul to produce deep, introspective tales of women blossoming in a world that wants to tear at their clothes and reduce them to mere sex objects.
What's phenomenal about Amos is that when she writes such achingly personal songs, her fans can still interpret them as dead-on accounts of their own joys and tragedies.
They love her for that.
But in the grand scheme of Amos' music, her lyrics take a backseat to her heavenly melodies -- especially live in concert. Her words are just one of a sack-full of ingredients in Amos' warm batter of sound that is so tasty that the listener can't help but want to lick the musical bowl clean.
If Mother Nature could sing, she'd probably sound like Amos, but her angelic ooh-wa-oohs, and variations on that theme, lost a bit of their impact Sunday night. Nonetheless, they were still enjoyable.
Highlights of the show included "Take to the Sky" a B-side to "Little Earthquakes" and the Beatles' "Let It Be."
And don't forget Rhett Miller of Old 97's fame who proved that an opening act, doesn't have to be a mindless diversion before the main attraction.
Amazingly, the solo performer -- armed with just an acoustic guitar and a shaggy head of hair -- won over the Amos-loving crowd with his exceptional sense of humor and hard-driving acoustic tunes, such as "Doreen."
Looking around the Brady Theater during Amos' performance, there were more than a few ladies with hair dyed Amos-red and a gaggle of both guys and gals mouthing every syllable that came out of their musical goddess' mouth.
They especially enjoyed the story she told about her 2-year-old daughter, who refers to Oklahoma as Okie-dokie-smokie. Fans will no doubt cherish the simple tale for decades.
Amos is a great singer, a funny storyteller and not too bad a looker. Add to that a terrific stage presence and you've got one heck of a good show on your hands.
Her rock demigod Robert Plant would have beamed like a proud father during Amos' Brady gig. She had a way about her that even when she gave the slightest of gestures -- like a knowing look after a particularly stirring piano solo -- it was like she was handing out a very special piece of candy to each and every one of her fans.
They blissfully ate it up and went home with full, happy stomachs.