Sinéad O’Connor
Faith and Courage (Atlantic)
The gift that is Sinéad O’Connor’s voice comes wrapped in her stiff and sometimes baffling politics. The gift is unhampered by that awkward packaging and indeed would take much more to diminish its glorious power. Nonetheless, O’Connor’s politics precede her talent and she has no one to blame but herself. Faith and Courage, her fifth album of new material in 13 years, was released in June to the usual torrent of controversy (is she or isn’t she lesbian) and a strong if predictable entry on the Top 40 charts (“No Man’s Woman”). Like the title of that single, the 13 songs of Faith and Courage are discreet discourses into O’Connor’s personal neuroses. That’s not a problem, since audiences love nothing more than seeing their own vulnerabilities mirrored in songs like “The Healing Room,” “Jealous,” and “What Doesn’t Belong to Me.” O’Connor’s songwriting has developed a cool edge that marks even her apolitical love songs such as “Dancing Lessons,” “Emma’s Song,” and “What Doesn’t Belong to Me” with curious detachment. While those seeking controversy will be happy with the enigmatic “No Man’s Woman,” “Daddy I’m Fine,” and “The Lamb’s Book of Life” are better, feisty, forthright, and challenging. The album’s finale is the traditional “Kyrié Eléison,” arranged most provocatively and cleverly incorporating her Rasta support, lest the listener escape without a sermon. Faith and Courage is a strong effort undermined by its intense introspection. O’Connor’s brand of self-conscious bravery wavers between political philosophy and adolescent uncertainty, a combination more appealing in younger artists but tiresome as they age. And because Sinéad O’Connor doesn’t take advice from anyone, offering it won’t hurt: Be a good Irish girl next time and sing something in Gaelic with that gift from God. 
This article appears in July 14 • 2000.