Tori Amos: To Venus And Back
Amos finds true happiness and releases an album with a song entitled Bliss? Yes and no. Actually, this is a double album, with one magnificent "live" CD reminding us of the musical and psychological journey Amos has taken since, at least, the release of Little Earthquakes in 1992. And, yes, the studio album of new songs does focus mostly on the period of relative bliss she's known since marrying Mark Hawley. But the song Bliss itself also shimmers with oedipal shadows. Likewise, Lust may celebrate unfettered sexuality but Juarez, as with her earlier rape song Me and A Gun, links sex to violence and universalises this theme. And 1,000 Oceans, though immensely beautiful, still tells a tale of tears. But then minus such tensions in her music Amos would be, well, as bland as Madonna.
Joe Jackson
Freedy Johnston: Blue Days Black Nights (Electra)
There are few sounds better than the one that catches you blindside. Last time I heard Johnston he was on his second album, a disappointing follow-up to his sparkling debut, I Can Fly. So subconsciously I had consigned this, his fifth album, to the bin before I had heard a note of it. But this wonderfully mellow collection of warm jangling melodies, embellished with tasteful guitar fills and studded with soft intimate observation and reflection, is a little gem. Producer T. Bone Burnett, no slouch himself at making fine albums, allows plenty of air so that the music seems to float at times. Nothing is forced. Even Johnston's reedy voice, so redolent of Nils Lofgren's, seems perfect for the job in hand while his band, including the great Jim Keltner on drums, is a model of tasteful expression. Check out Change Your Mind, Emily or The Farthest Lights for evidence.
Joe Breen