"My dad really wanted me to write religious music.
He got his wish I guess."
He got his wish I guess."
-Tori Amos*
Few artists in popular music have had a more explicit interest in religious themes than Tori Amos. Daughter of a Methodist minister, the American singer, pianist, and songwriter rose to prominence in the early '90s alternative music scene and has often explored paradoxical elements of the sacred and profane through the course of her many albums. Her songs are neither quaint nor devotional, but a harsh look at some of the deep contradictions inherent in religion and sexuality.
Her debut solo album Little Earthquakes (1992), features an early classic composition, "Crucify." A song in which a desire for redemption is mixed with self-loathing and contempt.
I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
looking for a saviour beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Just what God needs
One more victim
Her debut solo album Little Earthquakes (1992), features an early classic composition, "Crucify." A song in which a desire for redemption is mixed with self-loathing and contempt.
I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
looking for a saviour beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Just what God needs
One more victim
This often jarring intersection of spirituality and sexuality has been one of her signature lyrical themes. In early interviews Tori would often describe her interest in reconciling these traditionally opposed dynamics with the image of the virgin and the prostitute (evoking Christian archetypes of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene) sharing a plate of spaghetti. Elsewhere, she has described her music as possessing "alchemical qualities" that work toward a union of opposites (Gallani 2005).
It should be noted that Tori Amos' music has been some of the most raw and confessional ever recorded for popular consumption. One need look no further than her early acapella track about sexual assault called "Me and a Gun," released long before sexual violence became a topic of sustained public interest. Yet even this song incorporates religious imagery, whereby the singer finds herself in conversation with Jesus. This same frank tendency is also present in "Precious Things," another stand out track from Little Earthquakes. This time Tori brings us back to her school days, railing against "those Christian boys" who see her only as a sexual object: "So you can make me come / that doesn't make you Jesus." Not the sort of thing you're likely to hear on Christian radio, but an expression of deep spiritual anguish nonetheless.
It should be noted that Tori Amos' music has been some of the most raw and confessional ever recorded for popular consumption. One need look no further than her early acapella track about sexual assault called "Me and a Gun," released long before sexual violence became a topic of sustained public interest. Yet even this song incorporates religious imagery, whereby the singer finds herself in conversation with Jesus. This same frank tendency is also present in "Precious Things," another stand out track from Little Earthquakes. This time Tori brings us back to her school days, railing against "those Christian boys" who see her only as a sexual object: "So you can make me come / that doesn't make you Jesus." Not the sort of thing you're likely to hear on Christian radio, but an expression of deep spiritual anguish nonetheless.
More religious lyrical content continues with tracks from her follow-up album Under the Pink (1994). The second single from that release, "God," is an audacious and direct address of disappointment in the deity:
God sometimes you just don't come through.
God sometimes you just don't come through.
Do you need a woman to look after you?
God sometimes you just don't come through.
Although banned at the time by many radio stations in the US "Bible belt" (DeRogatis 2003: 124), this song does fit with the long-standing Judaeo-Christian tradition of direct challenges to God in the face of absence, suffering, and contradiction. The singer here is resolved to "find why you always go when the wind blows." As she explained later, the song "'God' is really about the institution...my concept of God--goddess, the creator, energy force--is not what the institution taught me" (DeRogatis 2003: 124). Indeed, resisting the rigid application of religion is often at the heart of her spiritual sensibility.
More subtle but equally provocative is "Icicle" (also from Under the Pink) in which Amos situates her own sexual awakening in the context of her traditional religious upbringing. She remembers being obligated to present herself in her "Easter dress" and submissively bow her head "like the good book says." Remarkably, however, this causes her to wonder if "the good book is missing some pages" and, in an unexpected turn, if true experience of the Divine is connected to the enjoyment of her own embodiment.
And when my hand touches myself
I can finally rest my head
and when they say take of his body
I think that I'll take from mine instead
Getting off, getting off
while they're all downstairs.
Singing prayers, sing away
he's in my pumpkin p.j.'s
Lay your book on my chest
Feel the word, feel the word, feel the word
Feel it
Once again, the spiritual and sexual are synthesized into a striking reflection on the paradox not only of matter and spirit, but of religious experience vs the experience of religion.
"I just remember being brought up with a lot of shame.
You couldn't have your spirituality and be this sensual being"
-Tori Amos*
Later releases such as Boys For Pele (1997)--an allusion to a Hawaiian fire goddess--also contain songs with strong religious themes. "Father Lucifer," for example, addresses itself rather tenderly to the dark lord himself--irreverently asking "How's your Jesus Christ been hanging?"--while "Muhammad My Friend" whimsically suggests that "we both know it was a girl back in Bethlehem."
From the Choirgirl Hotel (1998), for its part, contains "Playboy Mommy," a heart-breaking ode to a daughter lost to a miscarriage: "I'll say it loud here by your grave, those angels can't ever take my place." Once again, images of the sacred are mixed with trauma and pain.
On 2002's Scarlet's Walk, an album reflecting on post-9/11 America, she offers "Wampum Prayer," a song expressing her Native American ancestry (Amos and Powers 2005), as well as "Mrs. Jesus."
the gospel changes meaning
if you follow john or paul
and could you ever let it be
the mary of it all
Later releases continue in a similar vein, although with somewhat mixed results. "Original Sinsuality," from 2005's Beekeeper, even evokes figures from early Christian "gnostic" mythology. Not a standard lyrical trope.
Considered eccentric by some, brilliant by others, there can be no denying that Tori Amos has created a fascinating body of work that has earned a loyal following. In terms of the religious content of her writing, it can be said the few popular musicians have exhibited such openness and daring to explore difficult, awkward, and often troubling themes. Hers is a unique religious and musical vision.
*Tori Amos MTV Revue
Works Cited
Tori Amos and Ann Powers, Tori Amos: Piece by Piece (NY: Broadway Books, 2005).
Jim DeRogatis, Milk It! Collected Musings on the Alternative Music Explosion of the '90s (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2003).
Michael Gallani, "Tori Amos: Metaphysics and Music," Keyboard Magazine July 2005.
