Recap Tori Amos at Riverside Theater

Two things became abundantly clear while watching Tori Amos Tuesday night at the Riverside Theater. First is that she still—some 15 years after her most commercially successful period—has a strong and rabid base of worshippers who cheer at her every move and follow her from city to city. Early in the set, Amos spoke briefly, and gave a shout out to the fans that were at the Chicago concert the night before. When she introduced her drummer, Matt Chamberlain, and bass player, Jon Evans, she prefaced it with “as some of you already know.” Amos knows who loves her, though she did still promise to rock the rest of the crowd.

I’ve always associated Tori Amos with her over-the-top fans, who in my mind will forever be slightly off-kilter women in their early twenties. I have a pair of friends who chased Amos’ tour bus on their bikes after a 1994 concert at the Riverside, screaming “Tori!” all the way to the Pfister Hotel. Shortly after that, I somehow found myself trapped in a room with a girl who played Amos records, and talked only about Amos, and clutched a vinyl copy of Under The Pink and who suddenly—disturbingly—announced, “She will be mine.” I decided to keep a healthy distance.

The raw emotion in her music and the tight connection with her audience creates nutty fans to be sure, but it also made Amos’ concert spellbinding for a casual follower like myself. That’s the other thing that was clear Tuesday night: In case anyone’s forgotten, this woman is a talent and a force. Her powerful voice comes through in recordings, but on stage she’s breathtaking. Watching her strange but captivating stage performance—she’s often spread-legged at the piano bench (a move that’s part provocative, part practical), with her head whipped back—makes you feel a little like a voyeur. She’s in her own piano-playing, music-making world, and we’re just lucky enough to witness it.

The set leaned heavily her new release, Abnormally Attracted To Sin, including a rendition of “Strong Black Vine” that ended with Amos yelling, “Push the evil out like a motherfucker” to wild cheers—people like the F-word—and the striking “Maybe California,” a song about a mom who’s thinking about offing herself. There were songs from more than half her 10-album catalog during the two-hour concert, though, including hits “Cornflake Girl” and “Caught A Lite Sneeze,” both of which had fans standing and screaming. She ended the night with “Big Wheel,” a rockin’ song off her critically ho-hummed 2007 release, American Doll Posse, which came off way better live. Amos has always infused feminism, sexuality, religion, and politics into her music, but something about this 46-year-old cult hero and mom singing out “I’m an M-I-L-F, don’t you forget” wrapped up the night perfectly.