When Irish women with distinctive voices who were successful in the 90s die, I’m required to write about them.
The terrible news came Wednesday of Sinéad O’Connor’s death. It’s an understatement to suggest she did not have an easy life, so while a shock, this is also one of those deaths that can seem like a relief from all the pain she dealt with in her 56 years. Tom Breihan wrote a nice obituary on Stereogum.
Much of that torment stemmed from her personal life, but there was also the public, career-based agony she endured. You can make an argument that no artist faced more abuse and vitriol for doing less to earn it than Sinéad did, at least since the Civil Rights Era ended.
Maybe it wasn’t the best move to ask that the national anthem not be played when the US was amping up to fight a war. Although I would ask why the national anthem needs to be played before a rock concert. Also a reminder to kids today that the national anthem was used as a political prop long before people got mad about Colin Kaepernick.
Somehow she was the one at fault when she called out the Catholic Church for its years of covering up the abuse of children by its priests. Not the hierarchy that protected the criminals and perpetuated the violence.
She also decried racism and censorship in the music business, which combined with the two strikes above, basically ended any major label’s interest in publishing and promoting her work.
Which is a damn shame, because she made great music.
Sadly I did not know much about her catalog until Wednesday. I had heard a song or two of hers – other than THE SONG, of course – over the years, but never more than a few times each. I played her first two albums, Lion and the Cobra and I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, front-to-back, Wednesday afternoon. I was floored. They are both terrific. Not every song is a hit, but each album is heavier on good songs than filler.
Her voice was amazing, of course. Her lyrics evocative, strident, and powerful. Often the music was very good, although in some cases it is pretty low-budget and typical of the era. I’m so disappointed in myself for waiting until her death to dive in and listen to it.
If I’m writing about Sinéad, I have to mention about the elephant in the room. It is, frankly, unbelievable that an artist like her, with so many quirks, controversial stances, and desire to veer away from what was popular, sang one of the greatest songs ever recorded. “Nothing Compares 2 U” is a stunning work. Yes, Prince wrote an incredible song for her to interpret. That record’s success all comes down to Sinéad’s performance, though. Few moments in the history of pop music can match it. It will get deep into your bones and shake you every time you listen to it. It doesn’t matter that it is a bald, female, Irish revolutionary singing. Every listener can connect to the pain and loss in her voice.
I don’t want to turn Sinéad into a saint or a martyr. She was full of flaws, and occasionally too righteous for her own good. Most of those flaws stemmed from a horrible childhood, and her righteousness was always well-intended, and often proven to be the correct stance once the controversy around it settled down.
As Breihan wrote in his “Nothing Compares 2 U” Number Ones entry, Sinéad was never destined to be a pop star.[1] Having a song become that big and enduring was a fluke of the pop charts. She should have been one of those underground artists that bigger, more famous singers referenced with wonder. I doubt that would have changed the things she fought for and against in her music and public statements. I get the feeling that she was fine with the intense responses she provoked if they made even a few people question stances they had accepted without argument before. Maybe that does make her a martyr.
OK, a few of the songs I fell in love with while listening to those first two albums (now twice each, as I write this).
“Mandinka,” 1987
This did not chart in the US, but got some limited MTV airplay, so I remember seeing it a few times. Probably her poppiest track.
“I Want Your Hands On Me”, 1987
This one is a jam. It isn’t too far from what the Sugarcubes and a young Bjork were doing around the same time.
“The Emperor’s New Clothes”, 1990
The follow-up to “Nothing Compares 2 U,” it cracked the Top 25 on every major chart except here in the US. It was released before any of her controversies, so I do not understand why it peaked at #60 here. Well, I guess singing about the bitterness of being pregnant without being married in a retrograde, Catholic society may not turn on your average American Top 40 listener. But the music is as close to a standard rocker as she ever got.
“Black Boys on Mopeds”, 1990
Finally, a song that was well ahead of its time and, heartbreakingly, still relevant. I had never heard this one before, and it leveled me yesterday. I’ve listened to it at least 10 times since that first virtual spin.
- I highly recommend reading that entry if you have time. Especially the parts about those years when she was most in the public eye. And watch, if you can, her performance at the Bob Dylan tribute. As Breihan writes, imagine standing there and taking that much abuse from that many people for that long, then reacting as she did. It’s a little ironic that a crowd full of aging hippies, who wanted to stick it to the man and change the world in the ’60s, were intolerant of someone who was trying to do the exact same thing 20 years later. ↩