Tori Amos Scarlet's Walk

Tori Amos, either the wailing banshee of splay-legged, piano led outpourings or ghost faced beauty, with a penchant for kooky eclecticism. Whatever your particular vision of Amos, there is almost certainly one emotion that doesn't immediately spring to mind and that is "indifference". Throughout her career she has produced music of varying quality, style and logic, but there has never been an album that leaves the listener in a state of perplexed apathy...until now. It seems that even the devilishly beguiling Amos has aged and although her exquisitely angelic looks have remained, it appears that her music has stalled at a crossroads of mediocrity.

This is an album about literal and metaphorical journeys, journeys that trawl through a mystical America and the journey of self-discovery. Despite the honourable intent and oh so deep conceptual themes, there is no defining thread or prominent lyrical message to hold the attention. Instead it all comes across as vague and uninspiring, perhaps this is Tori Amos reaching "artistic maturity", but at times you find yourself yearning for some creative adolescence. There are occasional moments of wonderfully luxuriant melody, such as "A Sorta Fairytale", which is the most obvious and fully formed moment amongst the massive "74 minutes of music".

This isn't a provocative, contemplative or even plain old duffer of a record, it just kind of drifts along, like the sketchy ghosts inhabiting this album's many stories/songs.

Another example of creativity gone awry.