Tori Amos

at Harborlights
by Katy Bergeron

Harborlights is outdoors? Who fuckin’ knew? Didn’t bring my sweater, either.

After an hour of gasping anxiety, the Goddess herself. Forget Courtney Love. She doesn’t deserve your idolatry. Tori Amos is the mirror to your twisted psyche.

You could not keep that crazy, wacky nut bottled up. While her guitar player wailed away, Tori danced around for three minutes before ripping into “Cornflake Girl.” Occasionally she would stop playing, turn to the audience and continue to belt out the tune, thumping on her chest to keep the beat.

Say what you will about her, you can’t say she doesn’t have diverse musical interests. Violet lights swirled around the stage as she launched into “Purple Rain.” Yes, by Prince. On a friggin’ organ. That chick deserves a standing ovation now.

The sour cherry on my Amos sundae was the cathartic “Me & a Gun.” When I listen to Little Earthquakes, I generally skip over that song because I can’t handle its heaviness. When she whispered the song to us, laying down her darkest secret, not a sound was heard among the 1,000+ people there. I had to restrain myself from openly weeping, merely letting the tears roll down as I listened to Tori reveal her hellish account of being raped at gunpoint as if for the first time.

When Tori comes back to New England, don’t allow the opportunity to see her slide buy. It’s not everyday that you can behold Divinity.