Little Earthquakes
Tori Amos
Atlantic,
1991
Reviewed by
Sharna Marcus
Before there was Lilith, there was Tori, singing the tunes of the madness,
sadness, callousness and craziness that goes along with being a modern woman. Amos
captures sorrow, fright, love, hate and sexual longing with intense, haunting music and
thoughtful - although at times abstract - lyrics.
Amos' ability to re-create these desperate emotions is best revealed in
"Leather," a song about a woman allowing herself to be used in a relationship:
I could just pretend that you love me. The night would lose all sense
of fear. But why do I need you to love me if you can't hold what I hold dear.
Amos shows unprecedented bravery by describing her rape in "Me and a Gun." The
music and the lyrics are simple. She hides nothing.
But
the songwriter reveals her inner turmoil with more than her words. Nine of the 12 tracks
rely almost solely on Amos' piano playing. She pulls it off, combining the beauty of
classical music with the creativity and callousness of the 20th century, without sounding
like Elton John. In "Winter" the keyboard sounds like it is singing a duet with
Amos, complementing her voice and style.
Little Earthquakes paved the way for the late '90s artist to express personal
emotions without the heavy marketing of '80s stars like Whitney Houston and Madonna. But
it's still questionable if any of the music of the Lilith's daughters can compare to Aunt
Tori's sonic earthquake.