The first time I ever went to Indianapolis was with my parents in the mid-nineties.  I was in a regional dance competition called “Showstoppers,” or “Highsteppers” or “Tappy Tappers” or something equally absurd-sounding.  I was thirteen and had just discovered Tori Amos.  (That was just naive enough to NOT notice the phallic mushrooms on the back of Little Earthquakes.)  I remember bringing my discman for the drive down, and totally getting into the Boys for Pele album.  Mind you, I was also in eighth grade and finishing up my stint in Catholic school, so loving the song Muhammed My Friend proved to fill me with incredible guilt.  Namely, because the opening lyrics are:

Muhammed my friend
It’s time to tell the world
We both know it was a girl
back in Bethlehem
And on that fateful day
When she was crucified
She wore Shiseido red
and we drank tea by her side

I remember adoring this song so secretively, because it was so..”bad.”  I recently put it on my current “Commute Mix” and driving around Indy with that song playing still makes me feel naughty.

I knew Tori Amos was coming to Indianapolis in early November and I had entertained the idea of seeing her.  My friends were kind of interested, but not enough to lay the money down, and so I was left the morning of the show checking concert reviews and mulling it over.  When I had seen that she had closed the past couple shows with Hey Jupiter, I thought that was enough of a push and purchased a ticket for one.  (Aw, sad.)

I sat next to a hipster kid who also obviously came there solo as well.  We may have been the only non-lesbians in a four-row radius.   Here’s the setlist.  The highlights for me were In the Springtime of His Voodoo, Mother, and of course Cornflake Girl because if you don’t like that song you should be kicked in the hoo.

I need more live shows in my musical diet.