Published on Feb 28, 2006
Tori Amos’s shrinking but still very dedicated fan
base is the type that actively seeks out bootlegs, obscure B-side
collections and will most likely continue to buy everything she
puts out, regardless that many are saying she hasn’t released a
decent album since …From The Choirgirl Hotel.
It doesn’t matter that next album may be THE one to
bring back the glory days of Under The Pink and Little
Earthquakes. In the meantime, fans will tide themselves over by
buying all of her CDs, as well as other media, such as her
autobiography Piece By Piece.
That said, Tori Amos could have released a smattering
of her videos, added a cheap couple of extras and pumped out a
‘greatest hits’ DVD collection and it would have been serviceable
enough for most fans because the DVD would put her video collection
into a single casing. Thankfully, the two-disc collection Fade
To Red goes beyond the typical video collection format. It is
beautifully packaged and wisely avoids the typical chronological
order of videos. Assuming the batteries of their remotes are dead,
fans of Amos’ first three or four albums will need to sit and give
songs like “A Sorta Fairytale” and “Sleeps With Butterflies” a
second (or first) listen while waiting for “Cornflake Girl.”
The extras include a standard “making of” video for
“A Sorta Fairytale.” Technically, the video is a small marvel, as
we see Adrien Brody’s and Tori Amos’s heads attached to body parts
as they struggle to make themselves whole again. Unfortunately, the
routine talk about the difficulty of shooting the video and
director Sanji’s “vision” gets a bit rich as far as ego-stroking
goes.
Fans are likely going to get more out of Tori Amos’s
comments about the inspiration (and meanings) for some of her songs
than the videos (she does both for the commentary). For example,
you hear more about how her fascination with baptism, waitresses
and Anne Boleyn has influenced her writing. And the song “Past the
Mission” was inspired by Hernan Cortes, the Spanish conquistador.
She refers to herself in the third person when she’s explaining the
situations that she is in during most of the videos, making it
nearly impossible to a) take her too seriously and b) not compare
her to a professional athlete.
As far as the videos, her collection reminds us that
Amos wasn’t particularly a video artist, yet her videos are
distinctively hers. They may not have the artistry of Bjork’s
collection, but with images like the shocking contract between the
white background and Tori’s brilliant reddish-orange hair as well
as the “flipping pages”-like editing of a song like “Silent All
These Years,” the videos easily recognized by most video-obsessed
music geeks.
As the video budgets grew, some of the later-era
videos become less interesting. “Bliss” is sort of Tori’s “Living
On A Prayer,” complete with sweaty bandmates and fuzzy,
black-and-white shots of the crowd. The only exception is “1000
Oceans,” which features a small-scale riot going on right outside
of Amos’s glass-encased box.
A minor technical glitch to note — the volume is
inconsistent as hell for some of the songs. When I put in disc 2,
it was if I cranked the volume from ‘2’ to ‘9’.
It’s hard not to feel bummed at the conclusion of
Fade To Red. For a viewer who grew up on Tori Amos, the DVD
collection is a reminder of when MTV and VH-1 used to play videos
(suspend your disbelief and it seems like you just got done
watching a one-and-a-half hour block of Tori videos on MTV’s 120
Minutes). The videos in her earlier career were in semi-heavy
rotation (enough to get on Beavis And Butt-head) and thus,
created a sort of shared experience with a mass audience. However,
with later-era Tori, the only way most of these videos could have
reached their audience was through obscure Web sites.