Like a lot of people, my first exposure to Sinead O’Connor was through her breakthrough single ‘Nothing Compares 2 U,’ and following that through the album that contained it, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got.
The woman performing that batch of songs was defiant, to a degree, but mostly delicate. She had an angelic voice and the face of an angel to match.
I was shocked, then, when I picked up her debut album, The Lion and the Cobra. On that disc, she looked and sang as if she was furious at the world and everyone in it. Her voice was just as stunning but she used in it strange and jarring ways. As shocking as that juxtaposition was for me, it must have been even stranger for her early fans to watch her soften up.
The song on The Lion and the Cobra that shook me the hardest is ‘Troy,’ an epic song about bad love. O’Connor threads mythological references into a scathing diatribe against a man who had an affair with her despite being taken himself.
The album cut is powerful, but this live version manages to trump it. There is no heavy string section to punctuate her words as on the CD… just a raging bald woman and an acoustic guitar.
And Dublin in a rainstorm
And sitting in the long grass in summer
Keeping warm
I’ll remember it
Every restless night
We were so young then
We thought that everything
We could possibly do was right
Then we moved
Stolen from our very eyes
And I wondered where you went to
Tell me when did the light die
You will rise
You’ll return
The phoenix from the flame
You will learn
You will rise
You’ll return
Being what you are
There is no other Troy
For you to burn
And I never meant to hurt you
I swear I didn’t mean
Those things I said
I never meant to do that to you
Next time I’ll keep my hands to myself instead
Oh, does she love you
What do you want to do?
Does she need you like I do?
Do you love her?
Is she good for you?
Does she hold you like I do?
Do you want me?
Should I leave?
I know you’re always telling me
That you love me
Just sometimes I wonder
If I should believe
Oh, I love you
God, I love you
I’d kill a dragon for you
I’ll die
But I will rise
And I will return
The Phoenix from the flame
I have learned
I will rise
And you’ll see me return
Being what I am
There is no other Troy
For me to burn
And you should’ve left the light on
You should’ve left the light on
Then I wouldn’t have tried
And you’d never have known
And I wouldn’t have pulled you tighter
No I wouldn’t have pulled you close
I wouldn’t have screamed
No I can’t let you go
If the door wasn’t closed
No I wouldn’t have pulled you to me
No I wouldn’t have kissed your face
You wouldn’t have begged me to hold you
If we hadn’t been there in the first place
Ah but I know you wanted me to be there oh oh
Every look that you threw told me so
But you should’ve left the light on
You should’ve left the light on
And the flames burned away
But you’re still spitting fire
Make no difference what you say
You’re still a liar
Meet Me In Montauk 
I actually was first exposed to O’Connor with her debut album, but, more particularly, the single from the album, “Mandinka.” Not really as familiar with this SOTD, though perhaps I would better recognize the album version.
I’m sure Sinead would be great to see in concert, at least back in her heyday, and before she completely went off the deep end.
Somebody needs to make a movie about this woman. The former Mother Bernadette Mary is recording music again but still commenting on issues in the Catholic church, as I discoverd on this post – http://blogs.myspace.com/sineadoconnormusic –
Fascinating stuff. I sometimes love Sinead’s songs and sometimes find them almost too achingly raw to enjoy. This one falls into the second category, but I still admire the hell out of her. And I’d be lined up to see that film, let me tell you.