1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die: 664. Sinead O’Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got (1990)

 

The word “troubled” seems to follow O’Connor around, but I don’t think it’s a fair adjective to use, one that diminishes her outspoken opinions as being the outcome of a deranged mind rather than simply strong opinions. Yes, she has trauma in her life, but so do a lot of people, doesn’t make what they have to say (about, say, systemic child abuse in the Catholic Church) incorrect. It’s a Rizla paper away from using the term “hysterical” in the old-fashioned sense, a derangement of the mind that stems from a wandering uterus.

Musically I don’t think she ever shook her association with the Prince-written Nothing Compares 2 U, the Big Track from this album. It showcases her vocal talents, recorded at her behest without compression such that it veers between breathy whisper and full-lungs power and you have to go with it. I personally don’t think it needs the multi-tracked vocals, this somewhat undermines the effect, and I see some contemporary reviewers found the strings overly mawkish (can one be “overly” mawkish? Surely the word already conveys a sentiment taken too far?). I can see that, so for a better alternative try the track Feel So Different, which uses strings but in a more staccato fashion that supports her voice rather than drown it out, and is a darkly beautiful track about being the odd one out.

The breathy whisper, however, is very good for grabbing your attention and bringing you in. I Am Stretched On Your Grave feels like she predicts the sound of Nordic singers like Björk and Eivør with folky keening vocals over a hip-hop beat, for a “modern tribal” sound. For me, it's easily the best track on the album. Not every track is a slow ethereal one. Jump In The River sounds more like a Go-Gos track, as is The Emperor’s New Clothes, with shades of Tracey Ullman’s variety of bubblegum pop, and both feel a little incongruous even though they show there's more to O'Connor than the ethereal. Black Boys On Mopeds is a powerful protest song with a lyric that pretty much sums up O’Connor’s life: “If they hated me, they will hate you too”. Don’t read the comments section for that track, it’s filled with morons that completely miss the point, as morons are wont to do.

Although the tracks on this album vary in terms of interest, it’s O’Connor’s voice that is her primary asset, able to convey vulnerability and power in equal measure, often at the same time. Maybe it’s an Irish thing, since Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan (another taken too soon) was also able to convey the same kinds of quality. Worth checking out (beyond this album) are O’Connor’s version of Tim Buckley’s Song To The Siren (a take, really, on the This Mortal Coil version), and her appearance singing Pink Floyd’s Mother on Roger Waters’ Wall tour.