In our current era, the phrase “our strange times” has become a ubiquitous, almost indifferent shorthand for the rapid-fire catastrophes of modern life. Whether applied to geopolitical instability, technological shifts, or the bizarre minutiae of pop culture, it serves as a conversational shrug—a way to acknowledge that the world has changed irrevocably without offering a deeper critique. It is refreshing, then, when an artist chooses to abandon such veiled observations in favor of direct, uncompromising expression.
On In Times of Dragons, her eighteenth studio album, Tori Amos does exactly that. The record is a deep dive into the narrative-driven songwriting that has defined her career, filled with the vivid color and character-based storytelling her fans have come to expect. The album populates its world with clear antagonists—the “Lizard Demons,” representing the billionaire class—and a familiar cast of allies, including the witches, gods, and priestesses that have long inhabited the Amos mythos.
The Burden of Self-Reflection
Perhaps the most compelling opponent Amos faces on this record is herself. In the album closer, “23 Peaks,” she approaches the task of defeating the Lizard Demons not as a triumphant hero, but as a penitent villain seeking pardon. She describes herself as a “half-dragon, half-woman thing,” acknowledging her own complicity in the systems she critiques. It is a poignant admission: we are all, in her view, both sinners and the sinned against, architects of the environmental and cultural decay we lament.
This internal conflict elevates the album’s broader allegories, yet the execution remains inconsistent. While Amos’ bluntness is a welcome tonic in an industry often defined by reticence, specificity does not always guarantee nuance. Tracks like “Stronger Together” lean into a relentlessly optimistic tone that can feel cloying, occasionally bordering on the naive when contrasted with the darker, more cynical themes of the record.
A Master of the Piano
Despite these lyrical hurdles, In Times of Dragons remains an engrossing listen, largely due to Amos’ undiminished dexterity at the piano. Her technical intelligence is on full display throughout the album. “Provincetown” stands out as a return to form, featuring a warm, looping piano melody that provides a sense of momentum, perfectly complemented by the precise, lively drumming of Matt Chamberlain.
Elsewhere, tracks like “St. Teresa” and “Song of Sorrow” showcase a brooding, atmospheric depth. The use of orchestral arrangements, courtesy of John Philip Shenale, adds a layer of complexity to Amos’ Bösendorfer voicings, ensuring that even when the album’s narrative landscape feels uniform, the sonic experience remains rich and evocative.
Ultimately, In Times of Dragons is an album of fits and starts. Its highs are as dizzying as any in her storied back catalog, and her voice—now carrying a seasoned, weary weight—remains as affecting as ever. While the record falters in its tendency toward first-order readings of the world, it serves as a bold, if occasionally uneven, addition to a career defined by its refusal to play it safe.
