We like her this way. Amos is at her best when she's at her most bizarre and pretentious. Reduced to her voice and piano, Amos can unload eerie tunes ("Winter," for example, off her debut Little Earthquakes) that'll bomb you back to the Stone Age. These days, though, she's tryin' the full-band, important-cultural-statement thing. Her new one, Scarlet's Walk, crams all manner of instrumentation and lyrical ephemera into 18 tracks.
We'll leave Toriphiles to sort out the post-September 11 thematic implications -- all we know is there's a few decent songs here, but it's far too middle-of-the-road. The fewer rock-goddess trappings and signs of sanity she displays, the better. Like your psycho ex-girlfriend in reverse.