Concert review: Sinead O'Connor blows away a sold out Vogue Theatre
Credit to Author: Stuart Derdeyn| Date: Tue, 04 Feb 2020 03:15:41 +0000
When: Feb. 2, 7 p.m.
Where: Vogue Theatre, 918 Granville
Not that many artists arrive on an album as truly unique as The Lion and the Cobra.
Released in 1987, Irish singer Sinead O’Connor’s debut inhabited a space all its own. Mixing folk, rock, pop, cutting edge electronica of the day with her thunderous voice, songs such as Mandinka, Troy and I Want (Your Hands On Me) sound fresh to this very day.
Her next album — 1990’s I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got — cemented her place in pop history. After that, she was as likely to be in the press or public eye for what she said and did than what she produced musically.
Not that she didn’t continue to produce often fine records, many of which appeared to be familiar to the fans who packed the Vogue to see O’Connor’s first local appearance here in decades. She got a standing ovation before she had even strolled on stage, smiling shyly in her black hijab and long-sleeved, floor-length gown.
The singer converted to Islam in October 2018, changing her name to Shuhada Davitt. She still records and tours under her previous moniker, which makes rather a lot of sense.
Sinead O’Connor. Tour photo 2020. [PNG Merlin Archive]
Opening with her cover of John Grant’s Queen of Denmark from 2012’s How About I Be Me (And You Be You), O’Connor was in excellent voice all night. Backed by a crew that could lay down everything from the blue-eyed soul/pop of songs such as Harbour or Hold Back the Night from 2014’s I’m Not Bossy, I’m the Boss to the punky directness of The Emperor’s New Clothes or the still jarring Black Boys on Mopeds from I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got.
Sinead O’Connor. Tour photo 2020. [PNG Merlin Archive]
This former song is all the more relevant today in the days of #blacklivesmatter and the increasing incidence of racist attacks in post-Brexit Britain. Proving that she really was far ahead of the curve, the line about millions of people telling her how to live her life in The Emperor’s New Clothes better describes today’s social media trolling society than it did in the press attacks of the 1990s.
Another show stopper was the brilliant 4th and Vine from How About I Be Me (And You Be You), which recounts the story of a junkie who knows that it’s time to quit, but can’t. With the opioid crisis rampant in the city’s streets, the song’s powerful lyrics rang all too true.
Mixing material from throughout her career, although sadly nothing from her fine traditional 2002 folk album Sean-Nós Nua, there were some duds.
Some of the love songs from her more recent records could fit comfortably on a Celine Dion record of other middle of the road artist. But everything was performed with passion and presence.
O’Connor is in her fifties now, and the majority of the audience was within 20 years or so of that mark. It meant that songs such as This Is the Last Day of Our Acquaintance gets a different reaction as its story of divorce is pretty familiar to — statistically — 50% or more of the crowd. And walking out of the performance, a line from Black Boys on Mopeds kept replaying in this reviewer’s head:
These are dangerous days, to say what you feel is to dig your own grave.