-- by Steffie Nelson

When Tori Amos talks about "girls," it's a good idea to ask exactly what she means. To this pop singer, the term applies equally to people and songs: "My songs are living beings to me," the 38-year-old says. "[They're] as real as you are."

It's these kinds of statements that have resulted in Amos being deemed "airy fairy" or "out there." She may thank the faeries on all her albums, but when you're playing Mozart pieces on the piano by the age of four, you need to credit someone for your gifts. Her '80s misstep as a pop/metal chick may have been the work of demons, inner or otherwise, but since 1992's Little Earthquakes Amos' muse has been kind, guiding her through personal turmoil and enabling her to create consistently vital work.

Strange Little Girls, Amos' sixth disc, is one of the most elaborate concept albums in recent memory. A covers record of songs written by men, each song/girl is sung by a different female narrator who comes with her own story, voice, and look. Chosen for their contemporary relevance, the 12 tunes run the gamut from the eerily apropos (the Boomtown Rats' "I Don't Like Mondays," which deals with a school shooting) to the esoteric (Neil Young's "Heart of Gold," which gets an injection of Stooges-style angst).

The collection is rooted in Amos' belief that during the last several years, male violence and aggression have achieved a new cachet in our culture. "There's an anti-freedom movement that's been growing," she says, "and you're lying to yourself if you don't want to look at it. It can be dressed up in tattoos and piercings and look really bitchin', but if you strip it back, 'power' in America often means having power over somebody else."