Would you find a woman who wears combat boots attractive? If her name is Paula Cole, then the question is irrelevant! Here is a performer whose persona is mesmerizing. Literally. The crowds were so still at the Coach House in Orange County, California last Sunday that you could hear ice cubes melting. In fact, to see her perform live in a smallish venue was really a treat. She took the stage in total darkness, playing a clarinet, and for about two hours held the crowd of four hundred or so breathless, eyes riveted to her with an intensity that few other performers command.

She sings, postures, prances like a spirited pony, grunts, whistles, plays piano, guitar, tambourine, and drums, jumps, stabs at the air, smacks her body in that now familiar manner, does incredible scat lyrics, and is a wonder to behold -- pure sexuality, energy, physical beauty and strength. In actuality, her dress was a deep shade of crushed red velvet, sensually caressing her lithe body. She wore almost no makeup, save for peach colored lipstick, yet had an earth-toned, transcendent glow. Adding to the au natural image, she wore no bra, didn't recently shave her armpits, had light fuzz on her forearms which were accented by the stage lighting, was adorned by no jewelry except for a very tiny gold stud pin through her right nostril and a thin gold bracelet on left wrist, and had on the aforementioned black boots identical with those pictured on the album jacket of Harbinger which she used to kick the lowest octave of the Baldwin keyboard to close a set, something I had never seen Tori do to her Bosendorfer. Of course, she was otherwise absolutely gorgeous. The only smoke came from some incense burning by the drum stand, some dry ice wafting across the stage, and steam coming from the nostrils of some of her fans. It was memorable.

I did not keep a set-list, but remember that she sang Happy Home as an ode and prayer for her Mother, Stephanie Cole ("wherever she may be"), with the utmost devotion and love, Bethlehem, Hitler's Brothers delivered with anger, almost bordering on rage, and most all of the other autobiographical songs from her two albums "Harbinger" and "This Fire". Especially memorable was Where Have All the Cowboys Gone? sung holding and wearing a Kakuki mask. At one point, she complained to the soundboard person about adjusting a hum coming from one of the piano pedals, then turned to the audience saying that she'd "have to kick some ass if necessary to get things straightened out" to a huge roar of approval. Later, she spoke of the vulnerability that all performers experience, or as she put it: "You know, we are up here working out our own shit." Judging from her lyrics, about the death of friends, family experiences and pain inducing memories, her performances are indeed cathartic. Perhaps that was also the symbolism to the backdrop of dresses hanging from a scrim on the stage, including a child's frock, a wedding dress, a Japanese kimono and some other skirts -- representations for the ages of womenhood, and the roles that they play.

Twice she took time out to introduce the members of her band. They were her sidemen Jay Bellerose from Orchard Beach, Maine on drums (he's been with Paula for over ten years); Kevin Barry on guitar, and Paul Bushnell on bass -- the same band that appeared on her first album, and who no doubt accompanied her on her Lilith appearances this past summer. If I am in error, please correct me.

Opening for her on this tour was an Irish group, The Devlins, whose androgenous lead singer Colin Devlin oozes sexuality, and who produces music that creates a fugue-like dream state, including such cuts as Heaven's Wall, Reckless, and the title track Waiting, all produced on the CD by the Canadian Pierre Marchand, who is also Sarah McLachlan's production guru.

The venue itself, the Coach House remains a veritable showcase for musical talent, drawing audiences from Los Angeles, Orange County and San Diego, and providing an intimate, if crowded ambiance. It would benefit in a major way from a menu make-over, which presently almost gives airline fare a patina of haute cuisine by comparison. But when someone like Paula Cole is in the spotlight, the comfort food becomes secondary. I was so grateful for the incredible musical experience, and hope you also will have an opportunity for a live performance.