Setlist
Tour Dates
11/08/13 New York, NY @ City Winery
Read More11/09/13 New York, NY @ City Winery 11/10/13 New York, NY @ City Winery 11/12/13 Buffalo, NY @ Riviera Theater 11/13/13 Tarrytown, NY @ Tarrytown Music Hall 11/24/13 Los Angeles, CA @ Luckman Fine Arts 11/26/13 Solana Beach, CA @ Belly Up 11/27/13 Santa Barbara, CA @ Granada Theater 11/29/13 Carmel, CA @ Sunset Center 11/30/13 San Francisco, CA @ Nob Hill Masonic 12/02/13 Oakville, Ontario @ Oakville Centre 12/03/13 Oakville, Ontario @ Oakville Centre
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Over the topsy-turvy course of the last two decades Sinéad O’Connor has been known more for her erratic behavior and a myriad of controversies (most recently her online feud with Miley Cyrus) than for her musical contributions. At times it’s easy to forget that there’s a genuine talent behind the troubled persona. Her most recent album How About I Be Me (And You Be You)?, although not on par with her classic first two albums, contains enough emotionally resonant songs to remind us that Sinéad O’Connor is still a vital artist in 2013. And if you needed additional reminding, her powerful show Tuesday night at City Winery would have convinced you.
Sinéad walked onstage clad in a wine-colored Victorian gown, and quickly put on sunglasses, explaining with a smile that it helps calm her nerves so she doesn’t run away from the audience in fright. She then proceeds with a ferocious version of John Grant’s “Queen of Denmark” that nearly had the audience running away in fright. “Why don’t you take it out on somebody else? Why don’t you bore the shit out of somebody else?,” screams Sinéad, and the audience responds with enthusiasm. It is this fascinating combination of frailty and rage that courses through the show. When she is surrounded by her backing band, Sinéad brims with confidence and seems genuinely joyful, making frequent smiling asides to her bandmates; when onstage alone, she appears frail and nervous. But, in all cases, she exudes a refreshingly honest take-me-as-I-am-warts-and-all humanity that is sorely needed in an era of auto-tune lip-sync phoniness. Her face, puffier, tattooed, showing signs of the strain of a troubled life, is still beautiful and, more importantly, natural.
On the ballads, her voice has taken on a Marianne Faithfull world weariness that suits the dark subject matter well. The junkie confession of “Reason With Me,” the best of her recent songs, is mesmerizing as Sinéad evokes the sadness of a lost life, “I’m the one who sits in the back room / I’m the one who doesn’t know how to have fun.” But Sinéad’s songs, even at their darkest, always have a soft light of hope at their core: “I don’t want to waste the life God gave me / And I don’t think that it’s too late to save me” she sings, and it’s impossible not to believe her.
For old school fans like me, Sinéad’s performance of “Jackie” - the first track off her debut album - is a special chill-down-the-spine moment as her voice soars into the ether. It is in these louder moments that Sinéad’s voice continues to amaze. However, a strange whispery a capella version of “I Am Stretched On Your Grave” (from her 1990 breakout LP, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got) falls flat as she apologizes at one point for forcing the crowd to endure another “boring verse”. And her biggest hit, “Nothing Compares 2 U,” is given a requisite, unenthusiastic performance (although the crowd greeted the song with immense enthusiasm despite the rather lackluster performance).
Sometimes the brunt honesty of Sinéad’s diary-like confessional songs become almost uncomfortable to behold, as during “I Had a Baby” where the pain she feels, as a mother whose baby was fathered by a married man, is not for herself, but for her child who must suffer for her bad decisions. “I don’t know why he should suffer instead of me / Over sh** that’s because of me,” rages Sinéad. As she sings, “I was always crazy” while nervously shaking her head from side to side, I can’t doubt her for a second, and as someone who also struggles with mental illness, a wave of sadness washes over me. There’s something so powerful about watching an artist confront their demons onstage, and the vision of Sinéad battling her troubled mind will endure.
The show should have concluded on a triumphant note - as the crowd was dancing and whooping over brilliant versions of “Fire On Babylon,” “The Emperor’s New Clothes” (the apex of the show) and “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance”. However, Sinéad returned for the encore to sing an a capella version of the most tedious and self-righteous song on the new record, “V.I.P.” Before beginning the song she awkwardly (but perhaps appropriately) instructed the audience not to applaud immediately after the singing ended, but to wait until she completed her whispering coda and stepped away from the microphone. As she sang the endless verses, which castigate modern celebrities for living shallow and selfish lives, the only moment of levity was the laughter from the audience at the line, “Get our pictures taken with the Pope” - which she acknowledged with a sly smile. As on the record, the song ends with ponderous theological whispers (“How can you say we are wise and we possess the instruction of the Lord?” blah blah blah), and as Sinéad steps away to appropriately-placed polite applause, the audience anticipated the high-energy song that would doubtlessly conclude the show. As the house lights came on and the roadies began to disconnect the cords, confusion reigned, as the crowd tried in vain through the force of their enthusiasm to rouse Sinéad to return to the stage for a more appropriate ending.
Alas, Sinéad lives to confound us all, and why should we be surprised? The “dyke” who marries men, the priest who rips up pictures of the Pope, the feminist who tattoos a man’s initials on her face - throughout her career Sinéad has been nothing if not unpredictable. As the confusion of the empty ending eases, I hear the voices around me processing what they just experienced. “That was amazing!” “Oh, her voice gives me chills.” And isn’t that what it’s all about, ultimately? That chill-inducing voice. And as I depart the venue, I think to myself with a smile, “I can cross another ‘must-see’ artist off the list”.
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Sinead O'Connor in Victorian gown
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On the ballads, her voice has taken on a Marianne Faithfull world weariness that suits the dark subject matter well. The junkie confession of “Reason With Me,” the best of her recent songs, is mesmerizing as Sinéad evokes the sadness of a lost life, “I’m the one who sits in the back room / I’m the one who doesn’t know how to have fun.” But Sinéad’s songs, even at their darkest, always have a soft light of hope at their core: “I don’t want to waste the life God gave me / And I don’t think that it’s too late to save me” she sings, and it’s impossible not to believe her.
For old school fans like me, Sinéad’s performance of “Jackie” - the first track off her debut album - is a special chill-down-the-spine moment as her voice soars into the ether. It is in these louder moments that Sinéad’s voice continues to amaze. However, a strange whispery a capella version of “I Am Stretched On Your Grave” (from her 1990 breakout LP, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got) falls flat as she apologizes at one point for forcing the crowd to endure another “boring verse”. And her biggest hit, “Nothing Compares 2 U,” is given a requisite, unenthusiastic performance (although the crowd greeted the song with immense enthusiasm despite the rather lackluster performance).
It’s impossible not to smile along with Sinéad...
The songs from How About I Be Me? get a far more enthusiastic treatment. It’s impossible not to smile along with Sinéad during “The Wolf Is Getting Married” as lines that appear sappy on paper (“Your smile makes me smile / Your laugh makes me laugh”) transform into a joyous celebration of human connection. Another touching moment occurs when a gay man in the crowd asks Sinéad if they can celebrate because gay marriage had just been legalized in Illinois. “That is a wonderful reason to celebrate,” she replied with a smile, before dedicating the next song, “In This Heart,” to the moment. It’s an apt dedication as Sinéad, flanked by the gorgeous harmonies of her female bassist and guitarist, sings of enduring love and commitment.
Sometimes the brunt honesty of Sinéad’s diary-like confessional songs become almost uncomfortable to behold, as during “I Had a Baby” where the pain she feels, as a mother whose baby was fathered by a married man, is not for herself, but for her child who must suffer for her bad decisions. “I don’t know why he should suffer instead of me / Over sh** that’s because of me,” rages Sinéad. As she sings, “I was always crazy” while nervously shaking her head from side to side, I can’t doubt her for a second, and as someone who also struggles with mental illness, a wave of sadness washes over me. There’s something so powerful about watching an artist confront their demons onstage, and the vision of Sinéad battling her troubled mind will endure.
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Sinead O'Connor
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Alas, Sinéad lives to confound us all, and why should we be surprised? The “dyke” who marries men, the priest who rips up pictures of the Pope, the feminist who tattoos a man’s initials on her face - throughout her career Sinéad has been nothing if not unpredictable. As the confusion of the empty ending eases, I hear the voices around me processing what they just experienced. “That was amazing!” “Oh, her voice gives me chills.” And isn’t that what it’s all about, ultimately? That chill-inducing voice. And as I depart the venue, I think to myself with a smile, “I can cross another ‘must-see’ artist off the list”.
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Sinead O'Connor at City Winery, Chicago (11/05/13) |
I enjoyed the review. Right on ! Complex
Posted by: Laura Larson | 11/07/2013 at 09:34 PM