Tori Amos channels her warrior woman

Tori Amos is no stranger to reinvention. With her piano as the only constant, she's swapped out instruments, pulled from every form of personal, mythological and political inspiration, and donned multiple personas to tell her tales.

So, it shouldn't be a shocker to see Amos in a new get-up. But Wednesday night at the Paramount in skin-tight black vinyl leggings, grabbing her crotch and panting while giving the audience the finger it was very clear: this is a whole new beast.

Amos' latest recording, "American Doll Posse," is a concept album in which she channels five different archetypal female characters. On this tour, the 44-year-old singer starts out every night as one of the five; her decision as to which one she'll play is made just an hour before the show based on her mood that night.

Wednesday night at the Paramount she must have been feeling feisty because she brought out "Pip," the fierce, sex-charged warrior figure, to start off a visceral full-tilt rock show.

Amos has said in interviews that "Doll" marks a transition for her, a rebirth of her image and musical style. That's not just talk. In her first tour with a full band since 1999, Amos is playing all out. Even after her first set as Pip — when she re-emerged looking like a 1970s mermaid in a blue sequined body suit — Amos didn't fully shake the edge of her "character."

Musically, gone are the baroque influences of earlier work like "Boys For Pele." Amos has also all but ditched the electronica of "From the Choirgirl Hotel" and "To Venus and Back." And she only played a handful of solo numbers. Backed by an artful light show, longtime bassist Jon Evans and two local musicians — the killer Matt Chamberlain on drums and Dan Phelps on guitar — Amos embraced the rock aesthetic with a vengeance.

Luckily, her songs do well backed by a driving beat and the wail of guitar. She's always known how to drive home a painful point with a gnashing lyric and a throaty growl. Even without distorting her instruments, she's always pushed her voice, morphing her vowels, launching into operatic falsetto and biting through sharp consonants. But combined with aggressive backup musicianship, songs such as "Cruel" and "Liquid Diamonds" were both beautiful and brutal, and covers of Nirvana's "Nevermind" and Neil Young's "Heart of Gold" mesmerizing.

This may be just another stop in Amos' successful, but ever-changing career. But it's sure a wild one.

Joanna Horowitz: jbhorowitz@gmail.com