Sinead O'Connor

Sinéad O’Connor hasn’t even taken to the stage and already controversy has erupted. Advertised as an all-seated show, it’s now standing room only in The Helix. “At the request of the artist” the seats on the ground floor have been folded away.
Quite why anyone would want to remain seated whist O’Connor is backed by one of the all-time great rhythm sections is hard to fathom. Either way, by the time O’Connor takes to the stage, what was a sold out show feels far less atmospheric than would ideally have been the case.
Not to worry. Once Sly and Robbie kick into a rasta groove, satisfaction is guaranteed. Tonight, from Bob Marley’s ‘War’ to Burning Spear’s ‘Jah Nuh Dead’, Sinéad O’Connor and her sidekicks deliver in spades. On a musical level, the reggae-fuelled set is funky, moving and, above all, inspiring.
Always a spiritual performer, in her new role as preacher of all things Rasta, Sinéad seems to the manor born. The lesson here is that less is more. She slides her vocals beautifully in and around the music, leaving space for Sly and Robbie to showcase their particular rhythmic gernius. Throughout, they underpin O’Connor’s soulfulness with subtle shifts in tempo, often to stunning effect, particularly on the wonderful ‘Vampire’.
Inevitably, a reference to the Ferns Inquiry is made late on into the set (Peter Tosh’s brilliant ‘Downpressor Man’ is to dedicated to the diocese) but there is as little hint of on-stage controversy as there is material from her past.
Thankfully, O’Connor seems content enough in the power of her music. That alone is enough to join her in praising Jah. Long may it continue.