Rolling Stone
December 30, 1999 - January 6, 2000 double issue #830/831
(special millennium issue)

Tori Amos

The music industry is not about music anymore. This is a time of entertainers. But at a certain point, you have to go back to the tradition of writers. Jackie Collins sells a lot of books, but is that in the tradition of the bards? I can throw shit on tape, and I’ve wasted a lot of tape. But at a certain point, is there a craft or skill that’s being developed? Some pop records are put together by really smart people, and the artist is just one of many players. The artist is the face of the producers. Producers are now the real artists. That’s not a negative; that’s the truth. Not a lot of artists are writers or players. Sometimes that’s a good thing, sometimes that’s a consequence. I have a different relationship with the producer. She sometimes tries to fire me.

Prediction: If they keep crashing stuff into the moon trying to find water and then the moon gets pissed off and the tides change and all women start PMS-ing together, you guys are going to fucking regret that.

Resolution: Less anger, more smile.

Time Capsule: Three things: the White Album; a pair of my peach, pointed, leather Manolos, size seven; and a hallucinogen. Probably ayahuasca, freeze-dried, because you don’t want the dysentery. It’s an eighteen-hour trip.

 

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