Lost In Music: Sinead O’Connor – Troy

It was a ‘meh’ kind of summer in rural Scotland – the kind of sticky oppressive day of boredom and heat that induced ennui in anyone, let alone adolescents in a drab town. I was sitting in my cousin’s living room with her. She’s brilliant,no-nonsense and funny, the closest to a sister I’ve had. We both liked Sinead O’Connor, so we watched a recent live show screened bt the BBC. It was, predictably, great, but then she performed the six minutes plus epic Troy.

The song starts off poignantly, reminiscing about Dublin days, before it gets personal. Now it’s becoming raw, almost unbearable to watch. It’s like an open wound. She’s howling, furious, screaming at someone unnamed, an ex-lover who has wronged her. “You wouldn’t have begged me to hold you if we hadn’t been there in the first place”, she spits, her face twisted, contemptuous and suffering.

And I’m sitting, shaking, sobbing, completely immersed in this elfin, fragile woman’s pain. I look over at my cousin. She’s exactly the same. We ‘re both in pieces. The song builds to a climactic roar, then ends. It’s utterly devastating. We’re both sitting in silence, faces red, teary and snotty. ‘Oh dear”, says my cousin with a sigh. “I wish we could drink. Cup of tea?”

*Aye, yes please”, I sniff, reaching for the tissues and trying to hold it together.

Thank you beautiful Sinead, for taking us out of our teen summer complacency, and moving us. Thank you for your truth, and sharing it when the truth tellers are not accepted. Rest in power, sis.