The Get Up Kids and Tori Amos
Print
Email
Share
21 September 1999
The Get Up Kids
Something to Write Home About
In the early to mid-‘90s, Midwestern emo was still largely a jagged thing, an identifiable descendant of the “Revolution Summer” post-hardcore sound from which it drew inspiration. In the late ‘90s, however, a new crop of bands decided to give the genre a more mainstream-friendly makeover. Leading the charge was Kansas City five-piece the Get Up Kids, who plugged emo’s boy-chases-girl lyrical tropes into a Weezer/Rentals-esque power-pop template. Needless to say, this softer-edged sound soon took roost, engendering the generation of Fall Out Boys and Girls that currently dominates the charts.
However, a decade later, it’s quite clear that the Get Up Kids didn’t just do it first—they also did it best. From the opening pick-scrape of “Holiday” to the hushed closing of “I’ll Catch You”, Something to Write Home About ably captures the excitement, uncertainty, and trepidation of young love without embracing misogyny or veering too far into the realm of slam book cliché. Conversations get heated, feelings get hurt, hearts get poured out over telephone lines—and all the while, the band maintains a bouncy exuberance, filtering the energy of punk rock through a tightly focused pop lens.
Growing up in the endless suburbs of the Midwest, I spent a lot of time going to punk rock shows at YMCAs, churches, and community centers. Occasionally, a savvy sound guy would play this album in between sets and the result was always the same: A roomful of self-conscious kids letting down their guard and shamelessly singing along. Ten years later, I still can’t listen to “Action and Action” without wanting to do the same. Something to write home about, indeed. 
Mehan Jayasuriya
21 September 1999
Tori Amos
To Venus and Back
Tori Amos released this double album just over a year after the impressive From the Choirgirl Hotel, where she brought more complex, electronic arrangements to a sound still governed by the piano. Venus: Orbiting was intended as a b-side release, but new song after new song found its way into the studio, and Amos scrapped the original plan. The results were mixed.
Whispy, flitting songs like the single “Concertina” mingled with gorgeous ballads like “Josephine” and “1000 Oceans”, halfway-theres like opener “Bliss”, the tentative “Lust”, and tropical storms like “Datura”. Sophisticated melodies were largely obscured by the singer’s efforts to atmospherically convey an imagined sojourn on the planet Venus.
The real star of the show is the second disc, Venus: Still Orbiting , a live collection from 1998’s Plugged tour, where a diverse sampling of Amos’ first decade really showcases her power and influence as a songwriter. A grown-up rendition of “Cornflake Girl” shares space with riveting versions of “Cloud on My Tongue” (both tracks from Under the Pink) and the orphan stunner “Cooling”.
The pairing of these bold, energetic performances with the nebulous outerspace meanderings of the first disc makes for a strange combination, with the profundity of tracks like “Bliss” sometimes entirely swept away by overbearing effects. Still, the creative juices were flowing at a rate fans haven’t seen since, and the creations themselves displayed Amos’s peerless ability as a composer and performer, even if her experimentation often served more as a distraction than as a sign of innovation. Liz Colville
