Throw Down Your Arms

by

Sinéad O'Connor

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What a bizarre and fascinating career Sinead O'Connor has had. Who could have guessed from The Lion and the Cobra that she would have such a meandering, do-what-feels-right approach to her subsequent albums? Since her first scandals in the early days, I've never really taken O'Connor at her word. She may have said she was retiring, but I never gave up hope that she really just meant she needed a little vacation. She's an artist who follows her muse, and, thank goodness, that muse leads her into the studio every so often.

In this case, we've got what will forever be referred to as Sinead's reggae album. Because that's exactly what it is. She's dabbled in the genre before, to excellent results, so why not immerse herself in the scene for a while?

Despite this being a covers album within a genre, this is very different from Sean-Nos-Nua, in which she reworked and reinterpreted traditional Irish songs. This time around, she lets the music take her in its direction. The bottom line: It works. O'Connor has an incredible voice which can convey an extraordinary amount of emotion, and she uses it to great effect here. I'm not a fan of reggae, overall, but this album pulls me in. It's rather hypnotic in its way. It feels like the real deal, not just some genre excercize. I'd recommend this to the O'Connor faithful as well as fans of reggae in general.

No one can ever accuse O'Connor of being an insincere artist. She took what (for most anyone else) would be a "you gotta be kidding me" concept and made a drop-dead serious effort. Only someone with buckets of talent could pull such a thing off.

Luckily, O'Connor has never lacked for talent, though she may have lacked for timing. The woman is indeed, as most critics and All Music Guide note, one of the greatest "born" singers to emerge in 20th century pop. She's also had extensive experience with reggae fusions to great success in her strong back-catalogue. People apparently forget that she's still sold 20 million records in spite of the "Pope thing." Her ability to successfully fuse styles was outright pioneering in the late 80s and beyond.

That said, this is a flat-out "religious-experience" record. O'Connor fakes nothing here, from the non-mainstream (but *choice*) reggae/rasta tunes she is covering, to the classic line-up of authentic studio players (recorded with Sly & Robbie at Tuff Gong, for heaven's sake). O'Connor has always been able to throw darts at God and spiritual themes...this album lets her go full-throttle. The opening rendition of "Jah Nuh Dead" is creepy in the best way you could imagine. It's her statement that she means every word she sings. Her soul and passion on every song is the ticket here: sensuous on a great "Curly Locks," firing on Babylon with "Downpressor Man." The title track is, again, spotlessly sung, produced, rendered, you-name-it.

The downside? You have to either really like Sinead O'Connor or really like reggae music and its message. The sounds alone are great for any ear, but at heart (on sleeve) this is a serious work, and not for the casual listener at all. I champion O'Connor's bold talent and, some day, in a rational world, this woman will be given the major props she has earned.

Also, I'm really disappointed that O'Connor is allowing cigarettes to start hacking away at that unbelievable voice. It's evident on virtually every song. Her timbre and resilience has suffered, and it's a crying shame, given that her calling card has always been the pristine, multi-octave tone of her vocal instrument. It's also clearly the cigs that are doing it. But she hasn't lost a shred of soul. This very good, very worthy album is proof. Buy it as an O'Coonor fan or a fan of REAL reggae, and you'll be utterly thrilled. There's no middle ground... otherwise it's a complete novelty.