Sinead O'Connor

As turn arounds go, it’s pretty spectacular. We’re sitting in plastic seats, munching on packets of sweets and popcorn while Sinéad O’Connor – who, as some would have it, has caused this nation more than its share of heartache over recent years – is telling jokes, doing silly dances and knocking out a handful of polite Irish folk tunes.

Perhaps more of a shock, however, is that the show is happening at all. With all their equipment stuck waiting for a ferry in Glasgow, a frantic afternoon has cobbled together replacements from all over Dublin. Understandably, O’Connor and band get off to a tentative start, trotting out versions of ‘Peggy Gordon’ and ‘Paddy’s Lament’ which, like their recorded counterparts, sooth the soul but never really engage it.

As a steady footing is found, however, all concerned open up and begin to soar. ‘Óró Sé Do Bheatha ‘Bhaile’ and ‘My Lagan Love’ are massive, and a sparse ‘I Am Stretched On Your Grave’ shows that these influences didn’t come out of nowhere.

‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, meanwhile, is given a breathtaking, string swept new arrangement that not only gives the song a fresh impetus but takes the gig into a whole different place. Maybe it’s because her demons are not so prevalent now, but O’Connor seems happier than ever before to tackle her past.

The I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got album in particular is revisited at length, from an emotive ‘Three Babies’ to a ragged, garage band take on ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ and a glorious ‘Last Day Of Our Acquaintance’.

In the face of no little adversity this was a triumph. If Sinéad can take this feeling and energy back into the studio, God herself only knows what she’ll come up with. They really should have put her on a stamp you know.