Live Review: Tori Amos, Matt Walters

The support slot for a Tori Amos concert is generally going to be a tough gig given the extreme fanaticism of her devotees and the prevalence of fanaticism falling victim to the blinker syndrome. Tonight, however, Melbourne’s Matt Walters makes the most of the moment, gliding through his songs with a sense of warmth and emotive openness, and the crowd responds in kind. He lightens the mood as he jokes about forgetting to introduce himself at a previous show on the tour, and then quips, “This song is called Build A Place. It’s about architecture.” His guitar is mixed a little low, but the delicacy of his voice has all the room to shine and the songs find their way home.

After abandoning us between the long years of 1994 – 2005, Tori Amos has affectionately nestled her Australian fanbase back to her bosom over the course of four tours in as little as nine years. Like two of the three before it, this tour sees her performing solo (with the exception of two special shows at the Opera House that featured the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in accompaniment). Freed of the constraints of her band, Amos is able to delve into the deepest, darkest recesses of her catalogue when selecting setlists and fulfilling requests, and for many die-hards this is a slice of heavenly satisfaction. It’s the last night of the tour and she announces her intention to continue on from the night before (the set was determined by online requests) and tick a few more requests off fans’ bucket lists. After the semi-mandatory opener, Parasol, the room is ignited by …Choirgirl Hotel gem Spark, a balanced selection that seems to please fans of all degrees. Perched in the middle of a grand piano and a keyboard, Amos swivels between the two and imbues the song with a fresh set of characteristics. She gives God a beautiful makeover by working sections of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells and Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill into her foundation, and then continues on through the golden era with Bells For Her and Josephine. Early into the latter, an exclamation of “fuck!” signals a misfire, but Amos is quick to weave her magic and saves it with a hilarious “it was bound to happen… in my menopausal mind” impromptu ditty. With the exception of Mother, the set then heads into relatively more obscure terrain.

Things are broken up shortly after midway by the “Lizard Lounge” covers section. The Velvet Underground’s New Age and Joni Mitchell’s A Case Of You get a good response and before long favourites Sugar and Blood Roses are bringing things back to familiar territory. Amos briefly leaves the stage and on her return the backing tracks for Cornflake Girl fire up, the full-bodied rendition of the classic drawing everyone to their feet. Most stay this way, swaying their way through Wrong Band and the vulnerable closer, Winter. Although recent album, Unrepentant Geraldines, barely gets a look in tonight, it’s as if many selections are performed in part through the personality the performer has adopted for said album, and this makes the experience all the more unique. Given her vibrancy and spiritedness it’s hard to believe Amos is now a veteran of the music scene, and if tonight is anything to go by, she will be wielding her great powers for some time to come.