Hearing the crowd roar into action as I raced down the blackened aisle during the opening bars of "Tori Amos'" "God" was nothing less than a religious experience. This was my fleeting thought as I ran toward the front row of the "Tori Amos" and "Alanis Morissette" concert at Jones Beach recently.

Jones Beach, if you haven't ever been there, is in Long Island, New York, about 45 minutes away from New York City using public transportation (train, then bus). The name "Jones Beach" connotes not only a sandy beach, but also a huge open concert venue with a stage set against the bay and an ocean view. The mezzanine, also known as the nosebleed seats, has a slight canopy, but the main bulk of the audience sits under the stars in the open air.

On a beautiful summer night it's an ideal place to see a concert. Lilith Fair played there this summer as well as a number of other fantastic acts, including this 5 1/2 Weeks Tour, the concert I was lucky enough to attend. As I raced toward the photographer section, I was too enraptured by the sight of Tori and all her fans undulating to her music to be embarrassed by my disposable camera (a real camera does exist, but that's another story entirely). Swaying to the music I snapped a picture. Almost immediately, a red-haired woman with a British accent asked me for my press pass; when I flashed her my sticker, she shook her head and said it was for Alanis not Tori.

Stricken but not defeated, I walked out of the aisle. I knew if I wasn't three feet away from the stage, the pictures from my camera would be useless.

Determined, I went down another aisle hoping not to get caught. I eased myself into an open seat in the eighth row next to a gyrating, jumping, singing man and pretended I belonged there. It worked. I snapped secret pictures, took notes, and sang my heart out to the second song, one that I had never heard before (and I am a rabid Tori fan), called "Sugar."

I wasn't safe yet --- a tough-looking security guard had already warned me once not to take pictures, and here he was again coming towards me grimly. Instead of kicking me out, he leaned towards me and said in a gruff voice, "There's an open seat in the second row," and walked away. This was my chance! I ran to the second row and stayed there for the remainder of Tori. A few moments later I was joined by another brave Tori fan who slid in next to me.

My fellow illegal seat-snatcher, Bridget, joined me in my giddiness of being so close to Tori. Now, the concert could really begin. The audience went wild with the third song, "Crucify" from Tori's diary-like album "Little Earthquakes." As I looked behind me (behind me because the only person in front of my was Tori and her band!), I saw waves of people moving to the music. The stadium was almost completely filled, and there was dancing, singing, and some spastic fanatical movements throughout the crowd.

Tori looked her usual ageless and ethereal self, her long red copper hair falling in curls down her back and around her pale China doll face. Casual in jeans, sandals and a gauzy gray shirt, embroidered red flowers cascading down one side, Tori sat at her piano like a goddess. She welcomed us all and we cheered appreciatively back.

When the bouncers got a little rough, apparently, with some of the more enthusiastic fans, Tori refused to continue playing until they backed off, saying she must sing to her "kids" and whether it was New York City or not (well, it wasn't but no one was arguing) she would play to and for them. We all screamed back at our savior! Even the bouncers had to smile. Many of us were introduced for the first time to Tori's band --- Steve Caton on guitar, Matt Chamberlain on drums, Jon Evans on bass. It might seem as if Tori Amos stands alone, but she does have some very talented men supporting her.

That's one of the things I loved about both performances. These amazing, talented female singers were being backed up by men --- now that is girl power. Tori brought more gyrations and screams with the fourth song, "Cornflake Girl." We all danced and shimmied to the quirky song from the album "Under The Pink," which Tori has likened to an impressionistic painting. The songs on that album are beautiful yet deranged, poignant yet enigmatic, "Cornflake Girl" being one of the most popular next to "God," yet still odd.

"Never was a cornflake girl/ Thought it was a good solution hangin with the raisin girl/ This is not really happening you bet your life it is!"

Tori seems to use her piano as a tool, rather than it using her, pouring her art and her heart out to a receptive audience of thousands. Tori energy flowed through everyone I watched, most of whom were in their own worlds, moving their hands, arms, and bodies to her fast-moving fingers racing up and down that piano, her voice sounding even better in real life than on her albums.

The next two songs are new from her upcoming 2-disc album "To Venus and Back." I wish I could have caught the names, but like many Tori songs heard for the first time, it's not the words or the titles that are important but the medley of music and voice she releases. Throwing her head back with passion, she almost inhales the microphone. And as the wind blows through her hair, her fairy-like face contorts with feeling as the words burst through her mouth and feeling pulses through her fingers.

The songs ranged evenly from all of her recent albums, "Little Earthquakes," "Leather," "The Choir Girl's Hotel" "Jackie's Strength," a new song, possibly "Bliss," off of the latest "To Venus and Back" and an elongated and passionate version of "Waitress" from "Into The Pink." She sang an emotional "Little Earthquakes," however, the most memorable song for me was the very last one, "Precious Things," which she sang as her one and only encore.

The crowd went wild when she and her band returned to the stage, and then the cheers doubled when she teased us with the opening bars of the old but never tired "Precious Things." Even the men in the audience were singing passionately along with the women as Tori belted out those fateful lines, "Those Christian boys/ Just because you can make me come doesn't make you Jesus." Smoke filled the stage during this thrilling song --- a dramatic ending that was not overdone, but a fitting conclusion. Silhouetted in the smoky darkness was Tori, singing her heart out for all of ours.

It was perfect seeing her that close, the expressions on her face during different songs, the way her body sings with her, contorting to the piano and to her words. . .really magical. With Tori this amazing, Alanis had quite a show to live up to. Would she succeed? The short version is yes --- here is the detailed version. It was funny how divided many of the audience members were.

Some obviously were there only for Tori and left quickly after her last song. Then, the other seats, formerly empty, began to fill up with die-hard Alanis fans, including my second row seats.

Luckily for me and my seatmate Bridget, our security guard savior came back and not-so-subtly motioned for us to move to the front row. No arguments there. From what I heard later from a friend I met after the concert, David Copperfield was also there only for Alanis with a stunning blonde beauty --- notably not Claudia Schiffer. Interesting what you learn at Jones Beach!

Spent after an emotional and ecstatic hour with Tori, I was almost ready to pack up and go like the other Tori fanatics. But I was there to review the entire concert, and I am also a big fan of Alanis. I have been ever since I heard that now overplayed "You Oughta Know" for the first time while driving. I was so in love with her tortured and angry voice, I had to pull over and buy the album, "Jagged Little Pill," that day. Never have I done that before.

When Alanis finally came out on stage, the crowd, including myself, was reenergized and ready for --- wow, certainly not ready for such a small, tiny woman! With that powerhouse voice, strong mouth, and wild mane of hair, you'd think Alanis was more Amazon than fairy. Although she is definitely more fairy, she's got the energy of a supercharged battery.

Small and lithe, Alanis' presence fills the entire stage, in a way that Tori's cannot, trapped as she is behind her piano. Her long, waist-length, chestnut hair was pulled loosely back in a braid, a braid that came more and more undone as the show went on. Wearing a red and gold Indian sari skirt over black silky pants, a black camisole beneath a sheer black long sleeve shirt embroidered with magenta stars, Alanis looked beautiful.

The outfit was made complete with cool black running shoes. Her eyes glittered with sparkly eye shadow and her faced glowed luminously under the bright lights. She welcomed us sweetly with a little girl voice and then proceeded to blow us away with her first song of the night, "Hand In My Pocket," from "Jagged Little Pill."

The harmonica sang interchangeably with her voice, and the crowd went wild. Girls were jumping up and down, tears streaming down their faces, singing at full force with their compact heroine. Like Tori, Alanis was flanked by her all male band, Glen Ballard on guitar, piano, synthesizer, Chris Chaney on bass, Nick Lashley on guitar, Gary Novak on drums, and Joel Shearer on guitar.

They were impressive, especially the piano solo in the middle of the concert that Alanis sat down to watch, which then flowed easily into "Uninvited" from the new album, "Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie." Alanis was the focal point of the group, of course, belting out a tune and then thanking us kindly for coming to her show.

She didn't have much to say when she wasn't singing her songs, but that was enough for her screaming mob of fans. It's ironic (no pun intended) though how some of her biggest fans were men --- men bordering on hysteria yelling "I love you Alanis!" at the top of their lungs. Whether she heard these incantations of love or not, Alanis remained oblivious, flying in her own world of music, dance and song, whirling like a banshee for one song, then standing immobile for another. But standing still seemed difficult for the dervish Alanis, who seemed more at home spinning in dizzying circles than remaining in one spot. In fact, when standing still, Alanis seemed almost nervous, her expressive hands twisted and bent and pointed, unable to rest even if her body was.

Alanis also sang a relatively even mix of songs from her two albums, although she did favor her latest. She thrilled the audience with new songs, "Joining You" and "Are You Still Mad," in the beginning of the show. The latter was a powerful rendition filled with what felt like real emotion as Alanis crooned, keeping as still as she could, "Are you still mad that I tried to mold you into who I wanted you to be?"

Her fifth song, "Sympathetic Character," was where Alanis really let go. She raced and jerked and stumbled all over the stage, her braid flying dangerously, while she contorted her body in a strangely graceful way. Then she went slightly catatonic with "That I Would Be Good," a sweet slow song where she sparkled and glimmered under the lights while opening and closing the number by playing the flute.

Back to fast forward, Alanis regained her energy with the old standby, "You Learn." Everyone sang along, "I recommend getting your heart trampled on, I recommend walking around naked in your living room." It felt so good having the song swim in your stomach while she belted it out on stage. Her hands went wild during this song, twisting and wringing and pointing, almost as if all her excess energy had to escape through her hands. This is the song where she did lots of spin.

She spun and spun until I thought I would lose my balance, but her sneakers kept her grounded as she swept all over the stage narrowly missing the speakers and her band members, ending as gracefully as she started, if not slightly wobbly. A few songs later, Alanis gave the audience a gift of "These Are The Thoughts," a song that did not make the cut on her last album --- alas, there was no room --- but she felt strongly enough about it to sing it emotionally to her audience. Then for those who love radio Alanis, she sang "So Pure," one of the popular songs off her new album, and rocked out on the guitar, proving she can do more than sing, spin, dance, and play the flute.

Alanis really proved herself a top performer during this concert, using energy I don't think many other people have in a lifetime, let alone one night. Then Alanis sang the song that gave her a name in 1995, "You Oughta Know." The anger is still there, but it is smoldering and pure, rather than wild and uncontrollable as I remembered it from the album. This was the climax of the concert --- and coming down from this high was the powerful piano solo I mentioned before. Alanis sat down to watch and listen to the magic coming from the piano.

The audience was entranced also, although one fan couldn't help but yell out, "Go Tori!" I hope the pianist took this as the complement I think it was meant to be. Alanis only got up as the piano eased into her popular and moving, "Uninvited" from the soundtrack of the movie "City of Angels." She purged the song with her voice and body, swaying, bending and shaking. The song has an Eastern feel to it, as Alanis incants rather than sings, repeating her wandering lyrics to the eager crowd. Her last song of the night was predictable in title, but not in sound or style. Before singing her one encore song,

Alanis gave a few lucky fans gifts she brought from backstage --- an apple, a pear and an orange. The crowd loved it. "Thank You" resonated throughout the stadium as the entire audience hummed and swayed to her charms. She thanked us for coming and we thanked her for performing as we all harmonized this sweet final song. The concert ended abruptly as Alanis and her band left the stage waving lovingly to her devoted fans.

This show put both Tori and Alanis in goddess standing. You left with their art swimming in your head and coming out of your hands as you talked about the concert afterwards. If there were ever two women who could compare to each other and not disappoint, they are Tori and Alanis.