Sinead O'Connor
Throw Down Your Arms

I'm writing with not a little difficulty and embarrassment about this album by the Irish Princess dated 2005. Two considerations to start with:

•1) I love Sinéad as an artist and as a provocateur, since forever. I consider myself a good connoisseur of both her work and her public vicissitudes.

•2) I can't stand reggae. Unfortunately, it's not for me. I lack the culture for it, and above all, the main thing is that I think all the songs sound the same (though I admit that Marley’s "Redemption's Song" is remarkable, especially when sung by Sinéad). Nothing will change my mind on this.

That said, what can I say about "Throw Down Your Arms"? Well, in my opinion, it is an album of more or less all the same songs, with the little guitars and the upbeat rhythms, which are very much reggae, and they irritate me with their monotonous flow.

(Ok, Fine, Now vote!) ...If it weren't for Sinéad, who, thank God, manages to draw my attention to her charms and prevents the inevitable drop in desire.

Already in her choice of collaborators, she guarantees, at least to probable detractors like me, that everything will be played technically impeccably. Directly from the Tuff Gong Studios in Jamaica, no less than Sly and Robbie (historic collaborators of Bob Marley) are recruited, and they are also producers of the album. Furthermore, it was smartly decided to interpret lesser-known pieces of the Rastafarian panorama (thankfully not yet another NOUOMANOCRAI). This well disposed me to purchase.

And once again, Sinéad proves herself intelligent (she damn well is!), opening the album with an almost a cappella piece, "Jah Nuh Dead" (God is not dead) of boundless beauty, which is musically "other" compared to the rest of the album but splendidly summarizes the spiritual intent of the concept.

Yes, because for those like me who are so far from this world, the only way to appreciate the genre is to appropriate its language and start respecting it. Sinéad helps us in this by leaving out the circus superficialities of certain rowdy reggae and sings with a voice never so pure: this is music of the spirit, and I want to sing to God. Reggae is the music that allows me to do so.

Obviously, the methods (instrumental) remain those that I personally appreciate little, but it doesn't matter, in this case, the philological intent is more important than the little guitar.

Anyway, even a reggae heretic like me cannot help but be impressed by the reinterpretation of "Downpressor Man", which I'm told from the directing booth is quite a famous track, or by the contagious energy of "Prophet Has Arise". And what can be said of the stroke of genius (crazy girl) of ending the album with that "War" that had been stuck in her throat ever since the Bob Dylan celebration in 1992, when she was prevented from singing, opposed by a booing audience?

I conclude my writing with a P.S.:

p.s. I have a friend who plays drums in a reggae band. I had him listen to the album, and he said it's played very well, but that Sinéad's voice lacks intention.

I don't feel like saying anything contrary because I don't have the tools to contradict him. This will, in fact, remain the only reggae album in my catalog.