Review Summary: She didn’t just make little earthquakes, she made a really big one, a big one that is capable of rumbling our souls and uniquely beautiful.
Like I mentioned in my review on
Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, Kate herself inspired countless musicians who embraced arty uniqueness, ambition and accessibility simultaneously, such as the piano songstress
Tori Amos. In fact, I did not know the name of Tori Amos until I came across a video of her covering Nirvana’s “Smell Like Teen Spirit” in a form of a piano ballad. On that day, I was impressed by her skills of turning such alt-rock classic into something so hauntingly beautiful, and , coincidentally, her new album Native Invader was released at the time, and I decided to check her discography. I was since then very impressed by her orchestrated piano-aided poetry that recalls both Kate and
Joni Mitchell, especially the songs in her landmark debut album Little Earthquakes. As a result, I decided to give a review for this magical masterpiece.
To begin with, the opening track “Crucify” is one upbeat yet harrowing track, with the up-tempo pianos and galloping drums contrasted against sorrow lyrics regarding of being wrongfully accused while trying to defend herself (“Every finger in the room is pointing at me/ I want to spit in their faces then I afraid what that could bring”), finding someone whom she can trust (“I've been looking for a saviour in these dirty streets/ Looking for a saviour beneath these dirty sheets”) and, most importantly, asking why she has to be humiliated by using the metaphor of crucify herself every day for humiliation. It’s one anthem that is both powerful and vulnerable, and one brilliant opener that draws the centre theme of the album: The difficulties that a woman like Tori herself face in the society.
The following track, “Girl”, switched the tempo from an up-tempo to a more somber one, with a slower piano and an eerie string section, telling a tale about a girl seeking for independence,( The chorus “She's been everybody else's girl/ Maybe one day she'll be her own/ Everybody else's girl/ Maybe one day she'll be her own”) hoping the girl wouldn’t fall into the same fate like her. (“And as I twist I hold tight/ And I ride to work every morning wondering why/ “Sit in the chair and be good now”/ Oh and become all that they told you/ The white coats enter her room/ And I'm calling my baby, calling my baby, calling my baby, calling”) Despite some vague lyrics, such as “Hey, and in the doorway they stay/ And laugh as violins fill with water/ Screams from the bluebells can't make them go away/ Well, I'm not seventeen/ But I've cuts on my knees/ Falling down as the winter takes one more cherry tree”, it’s still one very beautiful song that successfully succeed the excellent trend in the album.
Then, there comes the highlight of the album, “Silent All These Years”. Like “Crucify”, the fairytale-like piano arrangement and orchestration, contrasted against melancholy lyrics that discusses being in an abusive relationship (“I got the anti-Christ in the kitchen yelling at me again”), being abandoned (“Been saved again by the garbage truck”), her opinion being forgotten (“My scream got lost in a paper cup/ I think there's a heaven where some screams have gone”), being helpless (“I got twenty five bucks and a cracker, do you think it's enough/ To get us there"”) and hoping the male partner to understand her, which recalls Kate Bush’s signature song “Running Up That Hill”, all in a beautiful way. (“And it’s your turn now to stand where I stand”) This song is one beautiful piece that reminds you that in the past, or even now, women can do nothing whenever they were mistreated but to silent for very long time, and Tori used this song as a catharsis for such pain.
However, a surprise came in “Precious Things”, an angsty, piano-aided yet rock-oriented song that is backed with the pulverising drums and stadium-sized guitars, especially for those who only expect full of piano ballads in the album. It’s perhaps Tori Amos at her most furious and vengeful, with lyrics such as “Holding on to his picture/ Dressing up every day/ I want to smash the faces/ Of those beautiful boys/ Those Christian boys/ So you can make me come/ That doesn't make you Jesus” and “I remember, yes/ In my peach party dress/ No one dared/ No one cared to tell me/ Where the pretty girls are/ Those demigods/ With their nine inch nails/ And little fascist panties/ Tucked inside the heart of every nice girl” and the creepy chorus that uses metaphor of precious things for (In my opinion) blood, and let them bleed and washed away. Even though this is one song that is more inclined on the Led Zeppelin-like arena rock and a rather scary cut comparing to most of her catalog with her haunting siren wails, it’s still satisfying with the upbeat piano riffs, making it an impressive song in her catalog.
After the rocking “Precious Things”, Tori returns to the orchestra for another highlight of the album, “Winter”. This Game of Thrones-esque song, in my opinion, really can make the cut as part of the TV series’ soundtrack, with lyrics such as “I run off where the drifts get deeper/ Sleeping Beauty trips me with a frown/ I hear a voice, ‘You must learn to stand up/ For yourself 'cause I can't always be around’ “, “Mirror, mirror, where's the crystal palace"/ But I only can see myself/ Skating around the truth who I am/ But I know, dad, the ice is getting thin”, “Hair is grey and the fires are burning/ So many dreams on the shelf/ You say I wanted you to be proud of me/ I always wanted that myself” and the chorus seems to be a tale of one of the characters in the tale or even a brief description of the game. The most redeeming moment is perhaps the majestic bridging orchestra section between the second chorus and the bridging lyrics which recalls the vast beauty of the mountainous Northern Europe, a beautiful sonic decoration that complements the encouraging lyrics in the song. It’s safe to say this song, along with “Silent All These Years”, are the most magical moments in the album.
The following tracks are also interesting, too: “Happy Phantom” is a joyously mischievous Broadway-esque song that describes the Tori become a phantom who do naughty tricks such as chasing nuns out of the yard and running naked without putting her masks on, while asking herself whether she would pay for what she’ve done; “China” is a melancholy song that laments about a fragile relationship, which Tori in describes she and her lover sit next to each other but she needs an airplane to approach him and know the distance when he breathes, while keep arguing for which destination to go, and asking him how can she touch him when built a “Great Wall” around him even though she knows he wants to be closer; “Leather” is another sorrow song with a jazzy tempo that is reminiscent with
Liz Phair’s notorious “F**k and Run”, in which sculptures her story with a half-hearted lover who only wants her sex, as well as pretending that he loves her despite he couldn’t hold she hold dear, while asking for her leather and why she’s in this so-called legit relationship;”Mother” is one moody piano ballad that discusses about the relationship with her mother with beautiful progression in the song, despite it contains perhaps the most mind-boggling conversation lyrics in the album; “Tear In Your Hand” talks about separation of in a happy and joyous tempo, with Tori brings back the guitars in a more upbeat fashion, which can change your mind that a breakup song don’t have to be either sad or vengeful.
The second last track, “Me and a Gun” is the simplest yet most harrowing song in the album, as well as her solo debut single. The lyrics, for those who don’t know, is actually about Tori’s experience of being a victim of rape, evident in the lyrics, “And I sang ‘holy holy’/ As he buttoned down his pants”, in which she also claims she’s still up and driving at 5 a.m. in the morning because she couldn’t go home as the rapists know where she live, and she seeks to get out of this trauma. It’s a song that is sparse yet frightening, that depicts the mental illness of a rape victim, which further draws that the term “rape” is not just means a forceful sexual intercourse, but a mental assault that could last the rest of the victim’s life. It’s hard to imagine that this is the song that started her solo career, as it does not contain the signature piano she has been known using, but it’s nonetheless an impressive song.
The final track, the title cut of the album, is even much more frightening with a tortured piano and guitar, which suggests about being outcasted (“Yellow bird flying gets shot in the wing/ Good year for hunters and Christmas parties/ And I hate, and I hate, and I hate, and I hate elevator music/ The way we fight, the way I'm left here silent”, “We danced in graveyards with vampires till dawn/ We laughed in the faces of kings never afraid to burn/ And I hate, and I hate, and I hate, and I hate disintegration/ Watching us wither, black winged roses that safely changed their colour”) and, most importantly, losing your soul. (“Oh these little earthquakes/ Doesn’t take much to rip us into pieces” and the continuous haunting wailing of “Give me life/ Give me pain/ Give me myself again”) This song is not just for women, but for those who were outcasted from the society, realising the horrifying side of not being yourself, another impressively surprising song since “Precious Things”.
Even though there are many impressive qualities in the album, there are some vague lyrics which actually put me off at times, making them a downside of the album. However, these lyrics also adds some mystique in the album, which flourished the album as a magical work. Although this album actually gave Tori the label of “the American Kate Bush” (which she shook away with the equally impressive follow-up Under The Pink), it nonetheless stands as a singer/songwriter classic to express your inner pain in an exquisite and eloquent fashion, hailing Tori herself as one of the greatest singer/ songwriter of her generation.
It may be named Little Earthquakes, but this album made more than that, and it created many waves of aftermaths in music.
