Tori live

Tori Amos's performances are usually more like séances -- the pale girl at her baby grand conjuring up ghosts in screams and sighs and whispers and slippery solo piano streaks. And though her current warm-up mini-tour (which hit Avalon in Boston last Saturday), her first with a full band, didn't forsake any of the intimacy she's known for, it was still a subtle retreat from the spotlight. Augmented by guitarist Steve Caton (who's been with her since her mid-'80s hair-metal days), bassist Jon Evans, and drummer Matt Chamberlain, Amos (playing piano and keyboards back-to-back) was occasionally overwhelmed by her collaborators: Caton showered power chords upon Little Earthquake's "Precious Things" and indulged a cheese-metal solo on Boys for Pele's "Doughnut Song," and the rhythm section perhaps overstated the electronic big-beat rhythms on from the choirgirl hotel's "Iieee." But more often the band fulfilled the promise of new dimensions -- allowing Amos to flex more dramatic, rocking muscles on choirgirl's "Cruel" (propelled by a scuzz-crusted bass line worthy of Tool and a chorus that'd make Garbage blush), or shading both new and old material with tempered gradations of elegance, melancholy, and exuberance. The band provided a heavier sonic partner for her voice to spar with, but it was also a place for her to hide, to emerge from unexpectedly.

The 17-song set -- drawing heavily on songs from choirgirl -- often seemed like a fan-club meeting. Although the show sold out within minutes weeks ago, Toriphiles were reportedly lining up at Avalon as early as 5 a.m. in order to secure the general-admission floorspace closest to their idol. "So this is our time together," Amos said casually as she sent the band away for a mid-set solo interlude, apologizing in advance in case she forgot the lyrics to her old songs. Halfway through a goosebump-raising "Baker Baker" she paused to console a front-row fan reduced to tears: "Oh, baby, that's okay. We're all screwed up."

And that was the vibe -- gentle consolation, with a touch of wry self-mockery. Introducing one of choirgirl's highlights, "Jackie's Strength," the recently-married Amos said, "I wrote this one about a girl getting lost on her wedding day. Wonder who that would be -- duh." Nor did the crowd need to be reminded of her much-publicized 1996 miscarriage to catch the allusions in choirgirl's first single, "Spark": "She's convinced she could hold back a glacier/But she couldn't keep baby alive." Rendered with chilly reverb and wisps of acid feedback, "Spark" (as an encore) and the set's opener, "Black Dove (January)," were highlights, evoking a kind of trip-hop cabaret with creepy hues and menacing allusions, and Amos's voice slithering through like the tendrils of a spider plant.

-- Carly Carioli

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