If you have a super fantastic memory, you will remember that on Monday evening Bonnie and I went to see Tori Amos in Atlanta.

[When I say �went to see Tori Amos in Atlanta,� I mean that we went to her concert, not that we met up with her for dinner. Although meeting up with Tori for dinner would�ve been very cool too.]

I was dismayed to wake up Monday morning to find that it was bucketing down rain, as the performance was at Chastain Park Amphitheatre � an outdoor venue. I hoped that the weather would clear up as the day progressed, but it got no better. By the time we left it was not only raining hard but thundering too. Bonnie said: �you must really love her if you want to see her in this weather� and I said: �well, duh.�

It took a long time to find the amphitheatre. Atlanta is a terribly confusing city; so confusing that even its residents don�t know their way around. Jo and George seem to be the exception. When Mary Kay and I were trying to get to the botanical gardens in June, we were given about four different sets of directions, none of which got us anywhere near where we wanted to be. Since Bonnie and I had helpfully forgotten the map, we had to consult a hotel information desk for directions. These directions only took us to one of Atlanta�s ghettos.

We finally picked up a map at a gas station, and got ourselves oriented. I managed to successfully navigate us to the amphitheatre, despite the confusion of every second street in Atlanta being called �Peachtree�.

I had agonised over what to wear for weeks, but it turned out not to matter. My ever-so-carefully chosen outfit was hidden beneath Bonnie�s rain trousers and Bonnie�s bright yellow rain jacket. This was also my first day wearing my new glasses, which are black rimmed and extremely geeky. The glasses look kind of funky with my normal clothes, but the combination of the glasses and the yellow rain jacket (several sizes too big for me) made me look like a trainspotter. Since most people looked like some version of that, I wasn�t too bothered.

We had pretty decent seats, especially for the price of the tickets. During our search we saw tickets for double the amount that we paid, for seats twice as far away. But we hunted around and got a good deal. (This is a map of the amphitheatre; we were in row L in the orchestra seating.)

First up were the opening act, the The Ditty Bops. I don�t think Bonnie was all that impressed, but I rather liked them. Unfortunately the sound system was a bit off so that we couldn�t make out a lot of the words, but they had a quirky sound, and I liked the girls� voices. One of the girls also had bright pink hair, which probably made me feel more favourably towards them, and also made me wish that I had pink hair again. When I checked out their website (which is very funky, by the way � it�s worth a visit just to see how good the design job is), I discovered that one of the girls � the non-pink-haired one � likes to draw. Some of her work is posted on the site; I like her style, it�s kind of like Escher on acid. I didn�t get their CD because I already spent $35 on a Tori T-Shirt, but maybe I will get it one day.

After The Ditty Bops there was a long wait for Tori. The rain started to ease during that time, so that I could take off my trainspotting outfit and look kind of normal.

When Tori eventually emerged, she was wearing a floaty layered skirt that made her look like a faerie. She sat at the piano and launched straight in Original Sinsuality, from her new album The Beekeeper. I had a hunch she�d start with that one, even before I saw the �Tree of Knowledge� stage set� it isn�t at the beginning of the album, but it�s great as an opening song.

As with The Ditty Bops, the sound system did not do her voice justice � it was echoey and made the words merge together. But I knew the words anyway, and the point was that I was getting to see Tori live. Her music has been a part of my life for so long that this is nothing less than a religious experience. And she kicks butt on the piano. She doesn�t �play� her B�se � it is part of her. She can make it sound any way that she wants. Bonnie mentioned that she could see how well-defined Tori�s arm and hand muscles are from years of piano playing.

The last time I went to see her in concert, Scarlet�s Walk was Tori�s most recent album. While Scarlet�s Walk has a pagan flavour, The Beekeeper looks more at Christianity � her father is a minister, after all. It reminds me a little of The Da Vinci Code in that it explores feminity, the hidden gospels of Mary Magdalene, and how the church demonised sensuality and the sacred feminine. So it was most appropriate that many of the songs she chose for her performance had some sort of biblical reference.

• Crucify (got enough guilt to start my own religion� why do we crucify ourselves every day)
• Father Lucifer (how�s the lizzies, how�s your Jesus Christ been hangin�?)
• Spark (if the divine masterplan is perfection, maybe next I�ll give Judas a try)

• Siren (reach high, doesn�t mean she�s holy� just means she�s got a cellular handy)

Father Lucifer was particularly good. Whenever I hear the line �nothing�s gonna stop me from floating,� I think of medieval witch burnings, and how women who floated when thrown into deep water were thought to be witches. I don�t know if she intended it that way, but since I see her as a sort of white witch anyway it�s rather appropriate. Pele is my favourite album anyway, there�s so much fire and passion in it � it makes me think of hot summer nights, secluded places and steamy sex. Of course she made sure to flip the bird to the �girls who eat pizza and never gain weight�, which I should probably feel indignant about since I am one of them.

This is a solo tour, so the whole evening was much more intimate and mellow than the concert at Wolverhampton. I really enjoyed seeing how much Tori could do without her �creatures who hit things�, but I have to admit that I did miss the band. I�m a sucker for well done percussion and bass, and Tori�s band is exceptionally good. I liked the way they did it in Wolverhampton, where the band stepped aside for about three songs and then came back again. Although maybe it�s just as well I didn�t get all fired up from the band, this time � I got such a buzz from Wolverhampton that I didn�t sleep for about three days.

I was amazed to know every song that she played. I own eight Tori albums, and about two albums worth of B sides, and that is still only about a fifth of her repertoire. There were a few songs I wasn�t expecting. Spark is a deeply personal song about her miscarriages (�she�s convinced she could hold back a glacier, but she couldn�t keep baby alive�), which I didn�t think she played live very often. Siren is another fabulous song which isn�t on any of her albums � she wrote it for the film �Great Expectations�. I had a copy on my computer and used to play it a lot, but then my music programme died and I lost it. So I was especially pleased to hear that one. She also did two very good covers � �Drive� (one of my favourite REM songs), and �Georgia on my Mind�. Even Bonnie said that she got the latter one just right.

I could easily and happily write about each individual song, but since that would probably cause you to chew off your own limbs with boredom I will refrain from doing so. I�ll just say that there were some wonderful moments, such as when she added �Jude Law� to the line �how to hide a hundred girls in your hair� (Cloud on my Tongue), and when she messed up during Happy Phantom:

��and I will never need umbrellas in the rain� oh fuck
Or will I see you dear and wish I could come back
And I will never need umbrellas in the rain
(singing) and maybe I need a [didn�t quite catch it] so that I can remember my fucking words��

She did two encores, just as she did in Wolverhampton, before skipping merrily off the stage for the final time. One of these included a cute little intro about how almost everything is illegal in Georgia. I don�t remember exactly how it went (I�m hoping it will be posted on the web sometime), but she sung it very sweetly and delicately... it ended with �and if it�s God (who tells you that it�s illegal), say: �I want to speak to His mother�.

I love her. I really do. I would even let her share my hashbrowns. ♥

The playlist, not in order:

Original Sinsuality
Sugar
Crucify
Father Lucifer
Drive
Barons of Suburbia
The Beekeeper
Playboy Mommy
Cloud on my tongue
Spark
Northern Lad
Your Cloud
Georgia on my mind
Cooling
Siren
Cars and Guitars
Sweet the Sting
Happy Phantom