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Sinéad O’Connor, Lilith Fair, Detroit, July 6th/7th 1998

The Emperor’s New Clothes
You Made Me The Thief of Your Heart
I Am Stretched on Your Grave
Nothing Campares 2 U
Thank You For Hearing Me
In This Heart
Fire On Babylon
The Last Day of Our Acquaintance
Chickenman song in The Indigo Girls’ set
Bonnie Raitt’s (can’t remember the tune, sorry).
At the end of the entire concert everybody came out to sing Marvin Gaye’s classic “What’s Going On?”

by; Kai Chai

A) THE SETTING July sixth was a warm, summer’s day — my friend and I took a cab to the very secluded Pine Knob Music Theatre at Clarkston, which was more than an hour away from dusty, post-apocalyptic Detroit. Our hearts sank — the ride cost us a bomb (US$50 a trip!).

That aside, the Pine Knob was great setting for Lilith Fair — a nifty village with lotsa greenery and rolling hillocks dotted with all the essential modern amenities to make urban animals like us “at home with nature.” There were the requisite stalls peddling New Age thingamajigs from scents to henna decoration, not to mention an array of causes from AIDS awareness to women abuse.

Naturally, I closed in on those stalls selling T-shirts/Lilith Fair paraphernalia. And whaddya know, Sinéad’s tees were going fast! There were two designs: the first, a black tee with a “hairy,” Gospel-Oak-era Sinead in front and her ’98 American tourdates at the back; and the second, an army-green tee with Sinéad O’Connor in that unique front of hers, and the tourdates at the back. There were also free lovely postcards announcing the day’s programme.

Sinéad was the second act at the Main Stage — after Me’Shell Ndegeocello, and before Indigo Girls, Natalie Merchant and Sarah McLachlan. Scheduled to come on at 6.45pm, the lady apparently decided to get things moving earlier — maybe she felt her designated time 6.45-7.30pm (45 mins) was too brief, and she wanted to give the audience more value for money, no?

Still, imagine my exasperation, if you will, because there I was — backstage conducting an inpromptu interview with the friendly Amy Ray from the Indigo Girls, when I could hear the shrieks and thunderous claps from the front, and the familiar, distinct strains of ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’ wafting through the air.

Immediately, I was distracted — y’know, this being my first time ever to “watch” Sinéad live — so I pretended innocence and asked Amy why the audience was going wild. She replied, “Probably Sinéad had just come on.” My muse must have hit me ’cos suddenly my skin thickened, and I asked Amy whether or not, er, she gave me a tour of the backstage — because it’d be good for my story, blah blah blah. (Of course, the real reason was because I desparately wanted to watch Sinead up close!)

So Amy gave me a speedy tour: changing rooms, cafeteria, the field where the artists chilled out, “play some basketball,” and where they kept their equipment in metal crates (I saw a box with Sinéad’s name scrawled on it).

When we finally came to the stage, I asked darling Amy whether I could take a coupla pictures, just for the story, y’know. So I did! I couldn’t believe it — I was probably a few metres away from Sinéad who was rocking away in the middle of ‘You Made The Thief’. She was petite, decked out in a see-through, long-sleeved black-lacey top which exposed her navel, and indigo denim jeans.

There’s something quite surrealistic and unnerving about watching your favourite singer in person for the first time, partly because you didn’t want to be disappointed and partly because you wanted everyone else in the audience to love her. (That’s for later discussion....) Anyway, I didn’t dare take too many pictures, because the security personnel were all glaring at this fool who obviously had no authority to be here clicking away merrily, if not for Amy Ray who took care that nobody gave me grief. (Alas, I din’t get any interview with Sinéad....)

By the time I got to my seat, Sinéad was already singing ‘I Am Stretched On Your Grave’. The next day, I made sure I sat at my seat from the start. Overall, I would say the second night was better: the audience were more in tune with Sinéad, they seem to know her songs better than the crowd from the first night.

B) SET-LIST FOR 6TH & 7TH: track-by-track review 1. The Emperor’s New Clothes No bullshit. No darkened stage. Sinéad and band just walked out from the right side of the stage and took their positions — at 6.25pm, about 15 mins earlier than her scheduled time. Lotsa applause when the audience realised who it was. Sinéad hollered, “Are you ready to rock?” Audience roared.

2. You Made Me The Thief of Your Heart This seemed to be one of the songs whom the audience weren’t familiar with. Although by this time, groups of three or four stood up and started dancing to the rhythm. Found out a lot of those were mostly girls in their teens, as well as some unabashed grown men.

3. I Am Stretched on Your Grave We’re all familiar with this more folky version. It rocked of course, and Sinéad’s band was in excellent form. Though I have to admit I missed listening to the more hip-hop, dramatic original — the one where she did the vivid, traditional jig in the Irish fiddle flourish at the end of the song. Oh well.

4. Nothing Campares 2 U Heart-stopping. More pared down and acoustic then the ’90 version — and somehow more soulful. Love the subtle changes. Okay, less schizoid and intense — no extended, breathless caterwauling in the bridge, for one — but infinitely more heartfelt. She even changed some of the words — the truly unexpected “I could shag whomever I choose” elicited some truly rapturous howling. Dame Bonnie Raitt came out in the second night to add some serious bluesy twang on her guitar. Riveting.

Thank You For Hearing Me Loved this heavenly version, the way Sinéad beautifully scaled one note higher in her penultimate line: “Thank you for HEARing me”. Made my skin tingle. Sinéadians would have heard of a similar version on the Gael Force CD. On the second night (her last Lilith Fair/’98 tour date), Sinéad proffered special thanks to Sarah who’d been watching and swaying from the side-stage.

In This Heart Before the song, Sinéad screamed out, “Hey, Mr Candy Floss Man! ... There’s a man up there with a lot of pink candy floss!” Everybody turned to look at the lucky fella. The lady obviously had a sweet tooth, ’cos she pleaded in a babyish voice, “Come down here, I love that!” Laughter all round. She then went on to plead the guy to go backstage, promising to do “lots of rude things” to him. That said, she promptly announced that “this song is dedicated to the Candy Floss Man.” As for the song... sure, this version wasn’t as goosebump-inducing as the one with the Screaming Orphans, but it was still a great live track which never failed to silence the crowd (well at least, a large portion of them). At the end, she introduced her band members and made some joke concerning her manager, Steve Fargnoli. (Now we know it’s no longer U2’s manager, Paul McGuinness.)

Fire On Babylon Brilliant. Dedicating it to “people recovering from child abuse,” Sinéad delivered the song with the Rasta man-part slightly varied from the live track on ‘This Is A Rebel Song’ CD single. Her enunciation for the Rasta-man lyric is less forceful, but more nuanced, more reggae in fact. And yes, at the end of the song, she actually got quite a lot of candy floss from the audience! Collecting her booty, Sinéad turned around, pointed at each of her band member, mock-threatening, “This is all mine, and none of you is getting this.” Made you wanna laugh and cry at the same time.

The Last Day of Our Acquaintance To die for. Bonnie Raitt, Indigo Girls and Sarah came out to sing parts of the song, adding their unique touches to a classic anthem. Believe it or not, Bonnie sang the “I drown in pain and misery” lyric in a bluesy, world-weary tone. I’m proud to report that Sinéad was nonpareil with her swooping voice, as she plumbed effortlessly into a well of morose sadness and anger. And she was so cute, genuinely overwhelmed by the company on stage, willingly retreating into the backstage and allowing the others to take the limelight. A generous human being.

Other collaborations Sinéad sang a heart-stirring part in the middle of the Chickenman song in The Indigo Girls’ set, as well as Bonnie Raitt’s (can’t remember the tune, sorry). At the end of the entire concert about 11pm, everybody came out in full force to sing Marvin Gaye’s classic “What’s Going On?”. It was fantastic, everybody was on their feet — a perfect ender to a fulfilling night. With a tambourine in hand, a demin jacket over her frame and a stupendously large earing dangling from her left ear, Sinéad sang a solo part which goes, “Stop brutalising me....” Absolute Sinéad.

C) VERDICT So, what do I think of Sinéad live? Sad to say, it was only slightly better than watching Sinéad on TV. Not Sinead’s problem of course; it’s because my seat at row XX (the next day was even worse, YY) was way too far for me to absorb the full impact of her performance, and the audience was, um, way too talkative for my liking. No offence, but crowds were yabbering away, shouting over their heads to someone they knew, incessantly walking in and out as if they were at a Coney Island’s playground rather than at a concert.

Maybe I expected too much: yes, Sinéad’s vocal delivery was faultless, but one does hope she looked up more often, and established some kind of phatic communion with the audience. This was clearly not the same Sinéad from ‘The Year of the Horse’. She didn’t move as much as one would have liked, like the way she was when performing ‘I Want Your (Hands On Me)’ eight years ago. As a SPIN writer once commented before, she’s a complex person holding herself back, not wanting to come across as a feral manic anymore. Only those sitting in the front few rows were clearly moved by her performance.

In contrast, Natalie, for all her mellow songs, was fantastic live: a real flirt, twirled a lot, flung her hair, did all those broad, theatrical moves which came across well to a large, potentially unruly audience. She chatted a lot, even giving candy/chocolate at one point! Matriarch Bonnie Raitt, who joined the Fair on the second evening, was a real cool trooper — she knew the right things to say to the drenched audience (yes, it rained!) who readily lapped up her good humour. The lovely Sarah was in great voice — she definitely got the loudest applause. It’s clear Sarah was The One whom Everyone Had Come For.

Having said all that, no one else moved me like Sinéad did those two nights (non-Sinéad fans would say I’m biased, of course). For all the aforementioned shortcomings, no other performer came close to conveying that potent, affecting passion like Sinéad did. For someone so experienced, Sinéad still came across occasionally awkward. Quite beguiling, if you ask me. She wasn’t “stagey,” if you know what I mean. What you see is what you get.

For sure, Sinéad has become less a showman but more a human being who wants to affect the audience by her voice alone. She obviously didn’t want to draw attention by any attention-grabbing gesture anymore. Like she has said, she now wants people to focus on what she has to say in her songs. (This of course will be at the expense of winning folks who have very short attention span, and who can’t sit down and concentrate on her singing.)

Expectedly, she wasn’t the best-received one, she didn’t get standing ovations like Sarah or Natalie did. Of course, one could blame it on the scheduling. As we all know, Sinéad was either the opening act, or second act throughout her Lilith Fair ’98 dates. This was not fortuitous. 5.40pm or 6.45pm was way too early, and a lot of the people were either still streaming in or milling around visiting the stalls. Very often, seats were half-filled. It was even worse for Me’Shell who opened the show on 6th July, very few people were seated, and her funky brew wasn’t, shall we say, well received by the mainly-whitebread crowd as say, the folky strains of Natalie/Sarah. Besides, the summer sun hadn’t set yet — there’s absolutely no “atmosphere” to speak of.

Poor Sinéad: she had to sing to half-filled seats, and I could imagine it might have affected her performance(s), she being the acutely sensitive performer who feeds off the audience’s vibes. Just as well that she closed her eyes, and concentrated on her singing.

In comparison, the late slots for the co-headliners Natalie Merchant (9-9.50pm) and Sarah McLachlan (10.10-11pm), obviously, benefited the singers. There were all these lovely, textured lighting arrangements which evidently enhanced the appeal of their gigs. Best thing, everyone was already seated (the stalls were mostly closed by then.) What I am trying to say then is that if Sinéad decided to take up the offer to come back next year for Lilith Fair, her management should try to insist on a late evening slot. It would be terribly demoralising with all the constraints as a result of daylight performances, eg having to play to half-filled seats.

Call me a skeptic/realist/whatever, but it seems to me that the who-comes-on-first/last arrangement only serves the interest of certain artists. Sinéad, if you ask me, comes across like an appetiser. This is especially glaring since the ordering rarely was changed throughout the tour. Why can’t there be a rotation so that some artists could benefit from the late slots?

Last but not least, it makes me reflect on Sinéad’s position vis-à-vis other female artists — especially when you consider how many have appropriated her head-turning, melismatic vocalese. Sarah is all elegant, laidback and approachable, a more accessible, presentable Sinéad whom everybody would want to befriend, if you like. Natalie is a born performer — she confessed to me she suffered no stage fright — a petulent girl confidently in charge. She will win more audiences. Indigo Girls are very American, very down-to-earth party rousers, with amazingly memorable, killer choruses which everybody can chant to.

Sinéad? Well, she’s a true-blue anomaly. Gawky, hunched a little, tomboyish — now, she’s discarded visual pyrotechnics, stripped of the jerky dancing she used to do so well. For gawd’s sake, she even wore the same stage costume for two consecutive concerts! And she and her band strided onto the stage without any fanfare. None of Natalie’s scene-stealing theatrics, or Sarah’s beautifully Pollyanna lighting/setting (with angels and other heavenly creatures watercoloured onto the backdrop). Sinéad’s act is now literally bare. Neither flower-hippie or hardcore punk now, she’s in no man’s land really. Question is: will she win new fans?

Any thoughts on this? Any feedback is welcome.

kai chai.