How About I Be Me (And You Be You?)

It is time for lapsed fans to re-aquaint themselves with Sinéad O’Connor. Produced by John Reynolds How About I Be Me (And You Be You?) brings us back to the passionate, confessional, painfully honest genre of songwriting that she made her own in the early years. Her ninth album marks a beautiful re-birth of the music she does best.
It opens with ‘4th and Vine’, a dancy reggae tune sung from the point of view of a young woman en route to her wedding with the man of her dreams – with whom she plans to have six children and live in a cocoon of family love for the rest of her life. There are two allusions to ‘happily married forever’ on this record and you have to wonder whether they stem from ironic humour, considering Sinéad’s unusual track record with matrimony, or, despite her personal experiences, an admirably stubborn belief in longlasting romantic love.
On track two, Sinéad sings from the perspective of a heroin addict, making an appeal to someone from whom he – or she – has just robbed. From the desperately sad opening piano chords to the song’s final, repeated refrain of “reason with me” Sinéad turns the archetype ‘junkie’ into a human being.
In ‘Old Lady’, Sinéad speaks from her own perspective, looking forward to the time in her old age when she finally might bag the man (currently unavailable), who she’s been secretly longing for all of these years. In the face of our sexist culture, which tries to deny women the right to romance and sexuality and natural beauty as we age, it is not only very funny, but also forms a strident feminist statement that should inspire the ladies out there to not take on the fucking bullshit as they get older. “When I’m an old lady/I’m gonna be his baby/I’m gonna wrap myself around him/And then I’m gonna kiss him,” she ings. Uniquely, Sinéad continues to shine as a true feminist icon, while so many of her diva peers fall under the knife.
‘I Had A Baby’ is, I think, the most honest, raw and vulnerable song that Sinéad has ever written. Seven years ago, I travelled to Jamaica with her to write a story for Hot Press. At the time she was very wounded and sad because the father of her baby boy had refused to acknowledge his child. In the most exquisite way, ‘I Had A Baby’ expresses the dilemma of every mother who must comfort a young child through thepain, grief, confusion and rejection felt following the abandonment by a reluctant father. “I was always crazy, I wish I wasn’t so crazy,” Sinéad sings mournfully. And your heart bleeds for her.
My favourite track on this record right now is the first single, ‘The Wolf Is Getting Married’, because it makes me feel so happy about the healing power of love in the world. Thank you, Sinéad, for providing the song that I know I will be turning to over the next few months when I’m most in need of hope.
While I’ve focused here on the tender side of How About I Be Me, Sinéad the lion is as present on her new record as Sinéad the lamb. Her rage for justice on ‘Take Off Your Shoes’ and John Grant’s ‘Queen Of Denmark,’ the only cover on the LP, is truly awesome. In the polemical ‘V.I.P’, she dissects the damage that is being inflicted on young minds by the selfish, uncaring, materialistic red carpet culture to which propaganda compels youth to aspire. And at the centre of How About I Be Me – and featured in the painting on its cover – is the innocent, vulnerable child, in whose defence Sinéad has been singing her heart out for decades.
Newcomers to Sinéad – start here and work back. Fans of The Lion And The Cobra, now is your chance to reclaim our musical Joan of Arc. How About I Be Me is a great album.
It is time for lapsed fans to re-aquaint themselves with Sinéad O’Connor. Produced by John Reynolds How About I Be Me (And You Be You?) brings us back to the passionate, confessional, painfully honest genre of songwriting that she made her own in the early years. Her ninth album marks a beautiful re-birth of the music she does best.
It opens with ‘4th and Vine’, a dancy reggae tune sung from the point of view of a young woman en route to her wedding with the man of her dreams – with whom she plans to have six children and live in a cocoon of family love for the rest of her life. There are two allusions to ‘happily married forever’ on this record and you have to wonder whether they stem from ironic humour, considering Sinéad’s unusual track record with matrimony, or, despite her personal experiences, an admirably stubborn belief in longlasting romantic love.
On track two, Sinéad sings from the perspective of a heroin addict, making an appeal to someone from whom he – or she – has just robbed. From the desperately sad opening piano chords to the song’s final, repeated refrain of “reason with me” Sinéad turns the archetype ‘junkie’ into a human being.
In ‘Old Lady’, Sinéad speaks from her own perspective, looking forward to the time in her old age when she finally might bag the man (currently unavailable), who she’s been secretly longing for all of these years. In the face of our sexist culture, which tries to deny women the right to romance and sexuality and natural beauty as we age, it is not only very funny, but also forms a strident feminist statement that should inspire the ladies out there to not take on the fucking bullshit as they get older. “When I’m an old lady/I’m gonna be his baby/I’m gonna wrap myself around him/And then I’m gonna kiss him,” she ings. Uniquely, Sinéad continues to shine as a true feminist icon, while so many of her diva peers fall under the knife.
‘I Had A Baby’ is, I think, the most honest, raw and vulnerable song that Sinéad has ever written. Seven years ago, I travelled to Jamaica with her to write a story for Hot Press. At the time she was very wounded and sad because the father of her baby boy had refused to acknowledge his child. In the most exquisite way, ‘I Had A Baby’ expresses the dilemma of every mother who must comfort a young child through thepain, grief, confusion and rejection felt following the abandonment by a reluctant father. “I was always crazy, I wish I wasn’t so crazy,” Sinéad sings mournfully. And your heart bleeds for her.
My favourite track on this record right now is the first single, ‘The Wolf Is Getting Married’, because it makes me feel so happy about the healing power of love in the world. Thank you, Sinéad, for providing the song that I know I will be turning to over the next few months when I’m most in need of hope.
While I’ve focused here on the tender side of How About I Be Me, Sinéad the lion is as present on her new record as Sinéad the lamb. Her rage for justice on ‘Take Off Your Shoes’ and John Grant’s ‘Queen Of Denmark,’ the only cover on the LP, is truly awesome. In the polemical ‘V.I.P’, she dissects the damage that is being inflicted on young minds by the selfish, uncaring, materialistic red carpet culture to which propaganda compels youth to aspire. And at the centre of How About I Be Me – and featured in the painting on its cover – is the innocent, vulnerable child, in whose defence Sinéad has been singing her heart out for decades.
Newcomers to Sinéad – start here and work back. Fans of The Lion And The Cobra, now is your chance to reclaim our musical Joan of Arc. How About I Be Me is a great album.