Hear Me Out
Tori Amos, 'Abnormally Attracted to Sin'
Tori Amos is a mommy to millions on her 10th studio LP, attempting to quench all her kids – the cultish clique (formally Toriphiles) that worship her like she's Mother Teresa – by making another goliath disc. They're finicky beings, and rightly so: Amos' last few works have been hit or miss. And here we are, two years after "American Doll Posse," with just one Tori, and a 72-minute, 17-song, style-shifty collection that should be her best since "Scarlet's Walk." Except it's like taking a trip: Leaving and getting there is cool, but the in-between "are-we-there-yet?" part could use more little earthquakes. Hack most of the balladry in the middle (salvage "Fire to Your Plain"), a disjointed rummage-sale hodgepodge, and what's left is Amos hitting her strange stride. "Give" is a grand start. Slinky, haunting, sensual, the piano siren's masked behind elusive fill-in-the-blank lyrics that could relate to sacrifices we make … or the "Twilight" sequel. The next few cuts, especially the familiar "Welcome to England," mimic that effectuality. Mid-trip, though, we're traveling by foot instead of jet during a string of hook-less arrangements, including "Police Me" and "500 Miles." And, boy, by the time we reach the rewarding final third – including the gosh-darn good "Fast Horse" and precious, piano ballad "Ophelia" – it feels longer than that.
Grade: C+
Eminem, 'Relapse'
Before Eminem tried to prove himself a decent dude with an Elton John duet, he was just another bully – talented, but more friendly with the "f" word than Isaiah Washington. He's still that razzing antagonizer on the playground (though his penchant for red wine makes him considerably less intimidating) with his sixth studio album. But in the interim of his almost-five-year leave, the cut-'em-up bad boy's closet is a heckuva mess – again. Cleaning it out is his modus operandi and, brimming with did-he-just-go-there? diatribes that level with his first two albums, he does so, wasting zero time slamming Mariah Carey on the silly cuss-word-calling, threat-spewing "Bagpipes from Baghdad." He dogs more of Perez Hilton's blog-posse on "We Made You," name-dropping celebs as frequently as the countless drugs he smoked or swallowed during his furlough. But as brazen as the Dr. Dre beats are, some of Em's passe material – star stabs, again? – oft feels like eating last week's lunch. Before "Beautiful" (and it is), on which he sheds his punk shell to get puppy-dog soft, he dishes on parental drug addiction and sexual abuse. His gory honesty on "Relapse" is refreshingly appreciated, and the wordplay is as dope (excuse the pun) as ever – his phrasing and rhythmic flow, mighty impeccable – but this Eminem show could use a fresher act.
Grade: B-
Also Out
Del Marquis, 'Litter to Society'
The Scissor Sisters lead guitarist's nine-song project cultivates social commentaries in circa-'80s beats that sounds a lot better than its digital-only release would lead you to believe. "Any Kind of Love" is a guitar-licked Prince throwback, and "Little to Society" is a solid nugget of glitchy electronica. He even tenderly takes on Bob Dylan's "I Believe in You" – and it'll make you happier than seeing him in wedgy-prompting pants.
Diane Birch, 'Bible Belt'
Hey, U.K., we've got talent, too. This preacher's daughter is American-born with Amy Winehouse's vocal prowess and a vintage '60s sound a la Carole King – and her debut is every bit as dynamic as her British vocal-doppelganger's. The whole opus is ice tea on a summer day – the best being "Rewind" and "Valentino" – as her soulful honeyed-voice and retro-pop conjures bell-bottoms and tie-dye.
Mandy Moore, 'Amanda Leigh'
She's one of few pre-millennium teen stars to dodge tabloids and hooha peek-a-boo – even eating disorders – but someone should've fed her better hooks for this sixth release. Even though "I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week" is a fetching Kelly Clarkson-lite kiss-off and the twangy "Bug" is a dainty ballad, much of the Duncan Sheik-inspired folk-pop just breezes on by.
