Thrill 4-5: Let it flow {Barons of Suburbia}

Ah, good old-fashioned Tori! Obscure lyrics? Check. Rhythm jumping all over the place in a way Bryan Adams could never cope with? Check. Awesome piano playing underlying it all? CHECK!

This song was never going to be an instant favourite, simply because there's rather too much to take in on a first listen. Rhythm wise, this is quite possibly the 'jumpiest' song she's ever done, not because the rhythm changes more often but because the speed feels faster than comparable songs (like Spark, God, Carbon or Datura). But mostly it's a three-in-a-bar whirl, and once you get to know where the hiccups are, it seems to me to flow very smoothly indeed. I've seen comments about this song having no melody or being all over place, to which my only response is to think people simply haven't put the effort in to learning the song.

Should music listening be something that takes effort? If you want to move beyond Three Blind Mice and other nursery rhymes, yes.

The song that instantly leapt to mind when hearing Barons of Suburbia for the first time was Carbon (from the Scarlet's Walk album). It's almost like this is what would have happened if the hesitant, wrong key introduction of Carbon had been more confident in itself. 'Barons' launches with plenty of energy and keeps on going.

Correct that last statement: this song actually gathers energy towards the end. I've never seen Tori live (sigh, I was born in the wrong part of the planet) but from the concert recordings I've heard, the last section of this song is easily the closest she has come to catching her live performance style in the studio. There's an edge in her voice that's very exciting, as if she's really caught up in the moment and throwing herself into it.

One world.

You've heard about global warming, now get ready for global dimming...

It would seem that one way to muck up the planet just wasn't enough. While our gaseous pollution is heating the place up, at the same time particle pollution (soot, smog, whatever you want to call it) has resulted in more reflective clouds and less sunlight reaching the Earth's surface - something like 10% less over the space of a few decades in many parts of the world.

The dreadful irony is that the dimming has actually been protecting us from the full effects of the warming. Now that we've starting to clean up the visible pollution (over the last couple of decades in Europe, for example), the rate of warming is likely to accelerate if we don't clean up the greenhouse gases at the same time.

The thing that REALLY got me about the documentary discussing all this, however, was the cataclysmic effects that happen to people who aren't doing the polluting in the first place.

Remember the massive drought in Ethiopia in the mid-80s? The one that inspired Live Aid and songs like "We Are The World"?

They were right, but not for the warm-hearted mushy reasons. It's now thought that the drought (which lasted for about a decade, we only heard about the end part of it) was caused by the polluted clouds streaming across from North America and Europe. Basically the temperature changes caused by the dimming meant that the monsoon rains never reached Ethiopia's latitude - they were pushed further south, away from the pollution.

Anyone who thinks their actions are their own business and they're not hurting anyone else is probably kidding themselves.

Thrill 4-4: Let's go sailing in Cornwall {Jamaica Inn}

To me, this is the first of four songs on The Beekeeper that probably surpass anything she's done for sheer beauty of sound (the others are Sleeps With Butterflies, Martha's Foolish Ginger and Goodbye Pisces). I know there are some fans complaining about the more opulent sound Tori is using these days, but as it was always her ear for combining sounds that I loved, I have absolutely no problem with her producing something this rich.

Jamaica Inn almost has a fairytale air to it, or a folksong touch. No doubt this is helped by the use of mandolin (I hereby nominate the song for best use of mandolin in a Tori song - it's certainly better than Snow Cherries From France) and the very simple chords in the verses.

There must be something going right, because the chorus contains a chord progression that often annoys me no end and here it seems perfectly judged. The critical chord happens just before the word "pirates" and again at "firmaments". It's a 'chromatic' chord, used to heighten emotion as the bass line moves up a small step. I've seen more than one average tune made to sound schmaltzy by overuse of this kind of device, but Tori succeeds in placing it so that it adds a touch of spice.

I might not like this song quite so much if I wasn't aware of the meaning of the lyrics. Someone who isn't obsessive enough to know Tori lives in Cornwall, and who doesn't know the rather unique methods of Cornish pirates might not recognize the metaphor being used here. Cornish 'pirates' (actually, it was sometimes an entire village) used to lure ships on to the rocks by hanging out lanterns that resembled lighthouses, but in the wrong places. So instead of finding safe harbour, a boat would be wrecked at the base of the cliffs. Daphne du Maurier, a Cornish novelist, wrote a book called 'Jamaica Inn' (it's a real place) which includes these activities. Oh yes, another of her novels is 'Rebecca'.

See? Easy when you know. For some miraculous reason I knew ALL of this before ever hearing this song, so for once unlocking Tori's meaning was pretty simple for me. And I like the metaphor - betrayal, a new woman as a 'wrecker', what was thought to be a safe relationship turning out to be anything but.

Round it all off with a glittering, delicate piano figure and you have a winning recipe. If you'd told me a few albums ago that Tori would ever sound like this, I might have found it hard to imagine. But I probably would have still believed you, because that's the genius of the woman.

Light entertainment

The Australian version of Google went Irish for St. Patrick's Day. I'm not sure whether other countries did this so I thought I would put it here for your amusement every day of the year. Cute, huh?

Show yourselves!

Um, who the heck are you all?

My hit counter down the bottom of this blog is going at a rate of knots these days. I think it's been ticking over nicely ever since I subscribed to Blogwise, but it seems to have accelerated. There are a couple of theories to account for this:

- my number one obsessive reader (or "Noor") has become even more obsessive, possibly as she attempts to physically will my next post into existence by pressing the Refresh button repeatedly.

- various Tori Amos fans are finding themselves here after doing a search for comments on the new album, ie references to individual song titles are boosting my Google score no end.

- the hamster has learnt to log on without Agnes' help (obscure reference to a somewhat oblique/tongue in cheek post I made several months ago, I'm too tired to find the link, if you're sufficiently interested you can damn well search for it yourself).

If you've never posted a "hi" in the comments and I don't alreay know about you reading this, please come and say hello. I promise not to pursue you relentlessly across the internet forevermore or anything like that...

...unless, of course, you want me to. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement.

A quick word to the young males roaming the streets of our cities carrying weapons and being aggressive whenever the opportunity presents itself

Fear and respect are not the same thing.

The problem is, the more valuable one of them takes a lot more effort on your part to achieve, and you're lazy.

Thrill 4-3: Sucker {The Power of Orange Knickers}

I can think of all sorts of reasons to take an active dislike to this song, but I can't bring myself to do it. It would be like kicking a cute little puppy.

I sit there listening to all the things that seem wrong. Here are a few of them:

1. THAT word. In the title. When I hear it sung, all sorts of negative thoughts go through my head. It seems to be a terribly English word for a start, ie peculiar to the British Isles. It's also the kind of word that English schoolboys would snigger at. I can imagine it being in a comedy song (it would be perfect in Tori's cover of "That's What I Like Mick", if it isn't actually in there already), but seems jarring in a song that doesn't appear to be making fun of itself. Finally, it's a dreadfully harsh word to sing. Tori manages to be gentle with it once or twice, but that hard 'ck' sound stands out a lot, especially when Damien Rice digs into it. Which brings me to...

2. This song "features" Damien Rice. There was earlier talk describing it as a duet with him, but thankfully the album itself reverts to him being a feature. A song where one singer doubles the other at the octave whenever the opportunity arises doesn't constitute a duet. Nevertheless it bugs me that Damien is getting more credit for his contribution than Trent Reznor did for "Past the Mission" (a contribution that in my opinion was a lot more atmospheric), and I can only conclude that savvy marketing has a lot to do with it. Having said that, lucky old Damien even gets to double himself at the octave in one portion, plus he's pushed forward in the mix ahead of Tori. Despite all the effort, a part of my brain reacts by saying "what was the point of all that"?

3. The musical substance of this song is not only short, but it feels short. There are some great songs with very few bars of distinct music in them that somehow get away with it and don't draw attention to the fact. Here, the melody repeats itself one note higher and does some small flourishes for variety... and I'm acutely aware of exactly what's happening.

4. The arrangement is bland. It actually starts rather well, it's not easy to get the sense of lightness and air that's achieved in the first part. But then the drums kick in more earnestly, and everything sounds flatter and there's nothing unusual to catch the ear.

And yet...

The whole thing keeps sounding so, um, catchy (*embarrassed cough*) that it's getting buried in my brain. Over the last week I've discovered several times that I'm humming the tune inside the head ("humming" because usually the words aren't there, who needs them when there are several sets of words to the one fragment of melody) and it isn't easy to stop, because the whole thing is so simple and easy to grasp. I have this horrible feeling that Tori could be in the middle of a concert and shout "c'mon, EVERYBODY!" and before they knew what was happening a lot of self-respecting people would find themselves singing along to this piece of bubblegum.

I don't normally listen to Tori Amos for this kind of experience. Nevertheless it is kind of gratifying to know that she's capable of delivering it.

Procrastination expert

I am so INCREDIBLY bored, despite the fact that I have lots of things to do. A half-done job application is staring at me from this very computer, for example, but I have no inclination to complete it or do anything else around here that might actually contribute to making my new house more liveable.

What I really feel like doing is sitting down in front of a DVD. Except my player is still back at the old house. So I shall deal with the situation like a mature adult - make a cup of tea and slump in front of the television to watch whatever's on.

I dare you to not relate to this!

Thrill 4-2: The dance of love {Sweet the Sting}

Bear with me here, I will get to the point eventually.

Ballroom dancing seems to be undergoing yet another revival here in Australia in the last couple of years. There are currently two shows of it regularly screening on television. I'd like to think that someone finally noticed that Baz Luhrmann's film 'Strictly Ballroom' creates a spike of interest in dance classes every time it's shown, although the more cynical side of me fears the revival has more to do with the appalling Richard Gere remake of a Japanese film on the same subject (please, casting him in the role of a socially awkward man who takes up dance classes?).

Anyway, the effect of this revival on me is that I get to hear quite a bit of music for the different kinds of dances. They often use pop songs, and it's quite enlightening to realise that Song X has the rhythm of a particular dance. Over time, I've become a lot more familiar with the essentials of some of the more frequently shown dances.

Which is why I'm pretty darn sure that "Sweet the Sting" is a rumba.

Absolutely everything about it screams rumba, actually. The kind of percussion used (I think this is what the press releases meant by "Afro-Cuban"), the tempo, even the lyrics with their hints of double meaning (when's the last time you heard someone was wearing a hat "cocked sure", for goodness' sake?!). Over and over again both the shows on TV have reminded me that the rumba is known as 'the dance of love', and I'd say this is precisely what Tori was aiming for.

It's a damn good rumba. I have half a mind to write to 'Strictly Dancing' to tell them there's a new song to add to their repertoire.

Night terrors

There's no way I'm going to sleep properly now.

I knew a new house would hold interesting discoveries but this is too much. My partially operational alarm system, for which I have no key and a PIN number which sent it into some weird mode 2 weeks ago I can't get out of, sprang to life of its own accord, flashing and beeping. I was literally ready to flee the house, terrified the whole thing was going to go off (and of course without a working PIN I couldn't shut it off if this happened).

And you know what caused this? My WASHING MACHINE.

I feel slightly better knowing this was the cause (and I'm certain - dammit, the flashing and beeping only occurred during the wash and rinse cycles), but I had adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream for about 12 minutes continuously (ie, a wash cycle). In that time I had rung an alarm monitoring company (not mine, I don't have one yet) and tried to explain through rising panic what was happening. I rang the same guy back later to tell him the cause and he said "that is bizarre".

Quite.

Excuse me while I peel myself off the wall I was climbing.

Thrill 4-1: The garden has a formal entrance {Parasol}

Yes, that's right. I'm dissecting The Beekeeper. One. Song. At. A. Time.

"Parasol" is such an unusual and distinctive song for Tori Amos, which has the rather odd effect of reminding me of songs by other artists.

The hammond organ opening manages to remind me of Sting's "The Hounds of Winter". I think the reminiscence is not only due to the instrument but also the modal harmony and the pacing. It's by no means a bad connection to have, nor a derivative one. There's just a similar mood.

Somehow "Parasol" also succeeds in reminding me of Wendy Matthews, although not any specific song. (For those not in the know, Wendy Matthews is an Australian singer of complex ethnic heritage - Spanish, Scottish and native Canadian spring to mind - whose glorious vocal gifts are not always matched by her choice of material. She needs to trust herself as a songwriter in my opinion.) I think it's the sense of formality and gravity that's conveyed here.

It's that sense of formality that really strikes me. The lyrics are (quite deliberately I think) stiff and stilted. Lines like "I haven't moved since the call came, since the call came I haven't moved" are not the kind of wandering fairy dust that Tori is sometimes accused of. The melody sticks very much to the beat. It seems appropriate that a song inspired by a Seurat painting should have this effect of austere beauty.

And it certainly is beautiful, particularly in the chorus which allows the melody to be slightly less angular. There are some exceedingly high harmonies in there that really do credit to Tori's ear for colour.

To me this is a song that will inspire deep admiration rather than any kind of ecstatic emotional response (it seems to be consistently generating positive mentions in reviews of the album). That's not a criticism - a song about a repressed character probably shouldn't be spilling out all over the place. Nevertheless it is surprising that a relaxed and unbuttoned album should start with such seriousness.