Published on Apr 3, 2006
In honor of the recent St. Patrick’s Day holiday, I
located an album that had remained in my consciousness despite my
not having heard it for 10 years. Such is the power of Sinead
O’Connor’s debut The Lion And The Cobra, its title taken
from the 91st Psalm.
Confessional female singer-songwriter albums tend to
bother me, especially because I grew up in the age of Fiona
Apple/Tori Amos/Alanis, but not once does Sinead stoop to obvious
heartstring-pulling to gain her audience. A clear, Irish voice and
urgent music carries these nine tracks, which are powerful and
memorable and will stay in your head long after they finish.
Sinead introduces herself to the world with “Jackie,”
a semi-Irish ballad with the singer bemoaning her lover lost at
sea. The entire song is carried by Sinead’s thin yet powerful voice
and a guitar fuzz that builds into a climax as the song continues,
ending far too quickly.
She then segues into the classic rock sound of
“Mandinka,” a typical rock song that Heart could have written, but
delivered with a shiny innocence that does not sound like the same
woman who sang “Jackie.” The early highlight is “Jerusalem,”
delivered by an ethereal acoustic guitar and some insistent
electric guitar picking, which eventually gives way to a spastic
verse and Sinead’s fearless vocals.
There is never a sense in the album that Sinead wants
to sell records or make people feel bad. Her lyrics revolve around
loss, love and religion — typical fare for the genre — but come
across as more real than her counterparts. Of course, in 1987,
there weren’t many other artists making music like this, which is
why the alternative underground latched onto Sinead long before the
pop music masses heard of her.
The record sounds a bit dated in places, such as
“Just Like U Said It Would B,” an obvious nod to Prince and Peter
Gabriel, both of whose influences pop up on the record. “Never Get
Old” is one of the few stumbling blocks, where Sinead’s wailing
doesn’t quite make sense and is mixed a little too loud to be
enjoyable.
But she quickly redeems herself with “Troy,” a
haunting, stark seven-minute ballad backed up by only some strings
and light percussion. It brings Madonna’s “Like A Prayer” to mind,
but Sinead has far more emotion and strength to her voice — the
point where she nearly screams “God, I love you / I’d kill a dragon
for you / I’d die / But I will rise and I will return” to Troy
sends a shiver up my spine every time.
From this, she goes back to sexy-bald-girl mode with
the insistent erotic dance-inflected “I Want Your Hands On Me,”
easily the most infectious song here and one that could have been a
hit in 1987, putting Madonna to shame. The album falters a bit on
the last two tracks, although “Drink Before The War” explores a
deep theme that most artists of the time wouldn’t have touched.
The Lion And The Cobra stands out from its
late 80s peers, not only for Sinead’s singing power and charisma
but for its excellent music and weighty lyrical topics. Easily one
of the best debut albums of the 80s, if not the entire alternative
movement, this disc is a treasure waiting to be re-discovered.