Sinéad O’Connor

Saw her in concert once. It was fabulous. Opening act was The Pursuit of Happiness. She seemed to see a lot of stuff before any of us knew it was coming. She warned us about the systemic cover up of child abuse in the church a decade before it broke for the rest of us. She wrote “Black Boys on Mopeds” in the early ’90s for FS, and we’ve been seeing that scenario play out via phone cameras now in recent years. What a genuine artist who only cared for the art and the truth. Four vocal ranges and the truth. That was Sinéad O’Connor.

I don’t think I’ve had an artist’s death stab as much as this since 2016. For gravity’s sake give me a second. I also hate that she was only 56. And that she never got a well-deserved apology from us (because she was absolutely right) and that she never got a comeback or an appreciation tour. She deserved better.

I am stretched on your grave, lady. I’ll be playing your stuff more and more now.

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