Nothing Compared.

I had planned to return to my regular newsletter writing this week writing about something else, but that went out of the window with the sad news of the death of Sinéad O’Connor on Wednesday. I can remember the first time I heard her music; I was about eleven years old, it was on the tinny plastic orange radio in our kitchen and it was ‘Mandinka’, from her debut album ‘The Lion and the Cobra’. Even back then I remember being fascinated by her; her incredible voice and the sheer raw emotion and anger with which she performed. I also loved how she placed little or no value on her own appearance despite the demands of the music industry – who dismissed her as ‘Bambi in bovver boots’; she wore her own startling physical beauty as carelessly as an old sweater; which made her even more unique and distinctive.

During the grey miserable years of the 80’s and early 90’s her success and artistry were a beacon and a sign that there were better things beyond the misery of recession-era Ireland. Her and her music were constantly in the background as I grew up; playing her jazz album ‘Am I Not Your Girl’ whilst working in a gallery in America on a J1 visa in 1997; and appearing as a foul-mouthed Virgin Mary in ‘The Butcher Boy’; being just two examples. When ‘Nothing Compares 2U’ was released I remember being gobsmacked by the sheer force  of her emotion; and being unable to believe that someone could sing with such nakedness and honesty.

I am of the opinion that much of the music which is produced these days is mindless commercial trash and bubblegum for the brain. I also would never describe myself as a die hard fan of any musician; I am nowhere (and never was) cool enough and am currently enjoying the embracing of my cranky middle age. But I always felt differently about Sinéad O’Connor and her music; she was unflinchingly honest about her sad and dark beginnings and how they influenced and fed her work. No doubt over the coming days and weeks her career and life will be discussed, picked over and analysed; for its sadnesses, wrong turns and mistakes as much as its success and achievements; and for this reason I’m going to stop writing here.  Nothing compared to you Sinéad; thank you and rest in peace.