Tori Amos makes Chicago abnormally attracted to her sinful songs

August 3, 2009, at the Chicago Theatre

By Nona Willis Aronowitz
Published: August 9th, 2009 | 10:50am

Tori Amos has memories — at least mine — that precede her. I can recall when I first saw her on VH1 and on the cover of Rolling Stone, over a decade ago when I barely had breasts. I remember Tori Amos being lumped in with Shawn Colvin and Sarah McLachlan, which seemed ludicrous; the only real similarities between those safer crooners and Amos’ bizarre bravado was their diesel soprano pipes. When I hear her name, I think of her fiery-red curls, her faraway stare, and sheaths of ethereal fabric dripping off her shoulders.

But I’d never been pressed to go to a show and had never become a true Tori fan — a concertgoer of a certain breed, I’d heard, that becomes nearly as possessed in the pit as their goddess does onstage. Yet I found myself surrounded by them at the Chicago Theatre as Amos slithered out and received a standing ovation before she even opened her mouth.

She wore a silver and gold lamé dress and matching pants — an outfit American Apparel clubbers only dream of owning — and sparkly stilettos. The curls I remembered were dead straight and butt-length. From the opening song, “Give,” off her latest Abnormally Attracted to Sin (Republic), Amos was immediately writhing, grinding, making love to the piano bench, and busting out her two-pianos-at-once move that even I had heard rumors about. It was the ultimate rocker-chick-in-space vibe: utterly shiver-worthy and thrilling.

A few minutes in, Amos paused to address the audience with her usual puzzling fodder. “This is a boys’ show,” she informed us as she introduced her all-male band. “There’s a little boy in all of us, I think.” This would prove to be her first and last time addressing the crowd.

Instead, Amos continued her love affair with the ivory keys as she switched effortlessly from synth to grand piano and, later, to organ. Sometimes I wished she’d get up and prance, just fling her seductive power at us like spaghetti against a wall. But considering her fingers were glued to the keyboard, she more than milked her confined quarters. You’ve never seen such a dynamic performance — and all while sitting down!

The show was a notable showcase of Amos’ latest album, but the haunting, minor notes of favorites like “Pandora’s Aquarium” and “Marys of the Sea” induced an otherworldly trance.

Just when she offered a particularly harrowing crescendo, the band cleared the stage and the “Lizard Lounge” portion of the show began with nothing but Tori, a piano, and a stark, starry backdrop. The next few minutes had a kitschy, burlesque feel to it — “Hand me my leather,” Amos whispered, and the crowd squealed.

A new song, “Strong Black Vine,” was the climax of the show, a performance so laden with pure fury that it upstaged the encore that followed. It was official. I was an Amos convert, albeit a decade too late. Not that it mattered. Tori Amos isn’t running out of steam — or her raw, ecstatic emotion — any time soon.

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Tori Amos official site

Tori Amos Myspace page

Republic Records