A sense of disillusionment occurs when pivotal musicians release mediocre material. Nowhere is this more evident than in a used CD store where one is guaranteed to find R.E.M., Pearl Jam and even Tori Amos. Poor musicianship is not necessarily implied; confusion is more often the culprit. Confusion is especially the case with Amos.
Amos' confusion-her fans as well-started in 2001 with the release of Strange Little Girls, a covers record in which Amos assumed the role of the all-male songwriters. Amos' approach to the cover record felt reminiscent of Cat Power's attempts at one, but remained its own unique entity.
With 2002's Scarlet's Walk, Amos reached the peak of her over-wrought creativity. Scarlet's Walk was about a young woman progressively maturing as she traveled the U.S. countryside. It was Amos' way of saying everything she wanted to; it was well planned and it worked. Listeners maybe needed a map to follow, but the journey revealed much.
Particularly baffling with Amos' latest, The Beekeeper, is the poor yield of honey. Amos uses 80 minutes to pack in 19 songs, grouping them into six gardens. With such an abundance of material, little sticks out.
Scarlet's Walk succeeded in having a discernable point. The Beekeeper never fully develops because of the sheer length. Amos subtly attacks the phallic nature of males in \Cars and Guitars"" with the lyric ""If I choke boy you start me up again / Restring my wires y'know this gearbox can make the shift polish my rims.""
Then she questions male tinkering as reflected in Biblical scripture on ""Original Sinsuality."" Whereas the twenty-or-thirty-something Amos would have simply kicked a hole in the altar, the forty-plus Amos poses a question, and then bothers to bring biblical characters into discussion. Adepts of esoteric religions might have better success with The Beekeeper.
As Amos has matured, she has embraced a more compassionate and Mother Nature-like temperament. The defiant Amos of the '90s is replaced by a cheeky and intelligent mother of the new century. This accounts for the bright mood of the album even when disparaging topics are raised, but conveying this musically is another challenge.
The rhythm section, with Jon Evans on bass and Matt Chamberlain on drums, has played with Amos for a few albums, but sounds most tired on the first half of the album, easily mistaken for elevator music at times. Much redemption comes in the form of the title track, with a deep, rumbling bass line weaving throughout the song. This track comes closest to Amos' earlier work yet maintains a healthy distance in creating a new sound.
Roughly two-thirds of the songs on The Beekeeper are performed on Amos' trusty Bosendorfer piano. The real driving force of the album, however, occurs when Amos opts for an organ and jazzes things up with a gospel feel on ""Witness"" and a funky R&B groove on ""Ireland.""
Amos cannot assume the same role in motherhood as she did previously. Unfortunately, the risk has been the sacrifice of a definite stance in favor of an all-embracing approach.
However, this all-embracing approach is ultimately an unsuitable descriptor for the album. Had Amos focused her thesis and shrank the album to half the current size, it may have been one of her best albums to date.
