Yesterday, as I strolled through my local supermarket's poultry aisle, this song came on and I thought to myself, "How lovely! Melissa Etheridge has a new, youth-skewing single out! That is terrific of her!" But then just as I chanced upon racks of chicken feet, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't Melissa Etheridge wailing, "Hey, slow it down / Whataya want from me / Whataya want from me / Yeah, I'm afraid / Whataya want from me / Whataya want from me." But rather, it was the dulcet tones of Adam Lambert. What a babe! At this epiphany, I nearly threw up all over the open cooler of chicken's feet. Whether that was due to the unnerving sight of hacked-off chicken feet selling for $1.59 a pound or to hearing this bit of pop discord is anyone's guess. But good on Lambo for getting a radio station to play his song, especially after this kerfuffle. That makes it all the easier for him to pursue his latest goal: Encouraging America's youth to drop acid. Adam, you rogue!

Back in the '90s, Tori Amos was vigilant about keeping her personal life and her music separate--even if it meant forfeiting more publicity and sales. So for an artist who has kept her private life well-guarded, save for necessary overshares, why is Amos suddenly going on-the-record about her marriage to producer Mark Hawley? Perhaps she actually does feel threatened by Lady Gaga's staying power, despite claiming that Gaga was no better than a meteor sinking through the sky.

Usually this time of year, after November is off the ground and we continue our speedy race to the New Year, I declare it open season on Christmas music. Sure, it's premature to be fussing about with our playlists by keying "Christmas" into the iTunes search field. But I'm not the one releasing Midwinter Graces as early as next Tuesday. So let's just get to talking about the big mistletoe-clad elephant in the room. Also, there is no other time of year when it's socially acceptable to queue up festive holiday tunes like this, this, this, and this. Around this time of year, we all get hormonal and reflective and say things like, "It's been a crazy year, but I'm glad I made it through without any substantial rug burns and I love you, man!" Christmas is magical, y'all! More magical yet: deciding whether you'd cut a rug to the tried-and-true Mariah Carey while chucking tinsel on your tree or if you'd rather brood with Tori Amos.

Maybe all of that banter about Lady Gaga becoming the next Tori Amos really struck a nerve with the veteran pianista. Because here she is, taking the offensive in The Sun, saying things like how Lady Gaga is a "meteor," which isn't to say that she's a sand- to boulder-sized particle of debris shooting through the solar system. Rather, Amos simply means that, as a meteor, Gaga is one of many "singers who entertain people for a while." She adds undermine-ing-ly, "Hey, there's nothing wrong with that."

You know, Gaga. We totally got off on the wrong foot. I mean sure, the shameless way in which you tore your weave straight off Teri Toye's scalp and slipped into Róisín Murphy's garments -- which, darling, looked a little like sausage casing on you at the outset -- really didn't make me warm up to you. And then there was "Just Dance," which sounded like the worst use of a Casio since the "Demo" button. And then came "Poker Face," which was mildly more melodic, totally gratuitous, and promising ... until that discordant rap, at which point it was an utter failure. But then -- then came "Poker Face" ... acoustic! Lives changed.

Someone "Silent All These Years" has a lot to say.

If its first leaked track is any indication, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, Tori Amos' 10th studio album ranks somewhere between a 5 and a 6 on a scale where 1998's From the Choirgirl is a 9 and 2005's The Beekeeper skewed closest to 3. And if she remotely cared about what perpetually cranky critics like me had to say, she would've swapped her Bösendorfer for an acoustic ax long ago, ultimately ending up like Jewel: No longer Dancing With The Stars. Moreover, at 17 tracks, Sin is an odyssey whose enormity can hardly be summed up in one song. Which is why it's a boon for fans and pugilistic naysayers alike that she showed off her chops at SXSW, performing new tracks alongside old favorites last night. Set list and video of her performing one of her more overwrought classics after the jump.

What a dour note to start the weekend on, but I suppose you can't win them all. Vandals have been reported breaking into the Metz Cathedral located in Moselle, a city on the northeastern tip of France. Though they made off with souvenir medallions and brass crowns off the scalps of statues in the cathedral, more disconcerting is the two-by-one-and-a-quarter foot hole they left in the Marc Chagall window as they struggled to escape without getting noticed. (Although they did find themselves with extra time and decided to leave a little graffiti on the stones at the cathedral's base.) Well done, boys. You not only face up to seven years in jail plus a $150,000 fine, but also the wrath of Tori Amos.

Tori Amos, that schizophrenic sorceress of song, has officially gone independent. Over the past three years, her last three albums were released on Epic, and before that spent nearly a decade with Atlantic. Amos, advises other musicians to “stop being dependent, dependent on any system that has become undependable.” Wait, does this mean she's like, indie?