Tori Amos is one of the greatest songwriters of the last 25 years, and even without a run of true hits or major awards to stand on, she’s certainly crossed over into “legend” territory. Her catalog of bittersweet, soul-baring, piano-led songs is absolutely stunning and unparalleled; only artists like Björk and PJ Harvey can be reasonably uttered in the same breath. Still, it seems the general public has never fully grasped her brilliance, leaving some of her best work to be discovered by those willing and deserving enough to seek it out. Looking into her vast catalog, I wasn’t sure what Tori song to really bring to the table. One of her impeccable singles? One of her equally-worthy album tracks? One of her lauded covers or b-sides? Somehow I landed on “Snow Cherries From France,” which doesn’t particularly fit anywhere. The song was one of two new recordings included on her 2003 compilation Tales Of A Librarian. Usually when a collection (Best Of, Greatest Hits, or otherwise) tacks on new tracks, they stick out like sore thumbs on hands full of recognized or appreciated older work. In this case, “Snow Cherries From France” fits in quite nicely. The song is a beautiful, moving ballad that is endearingly textbook-Amos. Her unique voice taps into its more delicate side while packing little punches of power at appropriate climaxes. I’m sure that most Tori fans would never bring this one to the forefront in this fashion, but I, personally, think it’s a song that everybody should know.