“I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got” by Sinéad O’Connor
Examining the late singer’s breakthrough sophomore record to celebrate its 35th anniversary.
“I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got” by Sinéad O’Connor
This album review examines the late Sinéad O’Connor’s breakthrough sophomore record to celebrate its 35th anniversary.
Genre: Alternative, Rock
Label: Chrysalis
Release Date: March 1, 1990
Vibe: ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
👉 Click the GIF to stream the album on your favorite platform
When I think of Sinéad O’Connor, I think of fearlessness.
It wasn’t just her music that was courageous, either. As a performer and activist, she was the target of unprecedented levels of public vitriol from both consumers and other celebrities. She soldiered on even in the face of increasingly hostile receptions to her persona. 35-plus years later, it’s clear that, when she spoke truth to power, she was in the right. Her infamous photo-ripping appearance on Saturday Night Live now feels ahead of its time, not blasphemous. Knowing what we know about rampant sexual abuse in the Catholic church post-Spotlight, it must be acknowledged that she got there first, with arguably much more at stake. The unwritten rule before and since has been, with few exceptions, to tone down political rhetoric on SNL because, well, it’s SNL. It’s an American institution. Stick to music, blah blah blah. She could've used that moment to propel her music to greater pre-internet commercial heights. Instead, she used the opportunity to open people’s eyes, or at least attempt to.
But, in the moment, she was cast as a pariah, not a hero. SNL banned her for life, and Frank Sinatra and Joe Pesci publicly expressed their desire to “kick her ass” and “[give her] a smack,” respectively. As O’Connor explained in her 2021 memoir, the immediate reaction was one that few would’ve gotten through in one piece. “Total stunned silence in the audience,” she said. “And when I walk backstage, literally not a human being is in sight. All doors have closed. Everyone has vanished. Including my own manager, who locks himself in his room for three days and unplugs his phone.” Two weeks later, O’Connor was booed viciously when she sang Bob Marley’s “War,” the same song she’d performed on SNL, at a Bob Dylan tribute show at Madison Square Garden. Kris Kristofferson was, by all accounts, the only person to offer her any support or empathy that night. To double down after you’ve already been dragged through the mud like that? Utterly fearless.
It’s through that lens that I’d like to explore I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, her dazzling sophomore album that’s primarily about processing pain and loss. The record is more polished in its production value and more astute, even matter-of-fact in its writing than O’Connor’s debut, the searing The Lion and the Cobra from 1987. But that’s not to say that she loses any of the intensity that became her calling card as a singer/songwriter—it just presents as starker and, at times, more fragile. Throughout this album, there’s a haunting quality to her voice that’s so open and expressive in its delivery, so beautiful in its occasionally strained imperfections that you can’t help but get swept up by its emotional frankness. There are no walls put up between the artist and the listener here. Instead, O’Connor gives you a long look at what would’ve been behind that facade, warts and all.
The opener, “Feel So Different,” is a fascinating way to kickstart the LP. It’s ostensibly about her (at the time) recent split from partner John Reynolds, the father of her first child, but you can also read it as the singer’s treatise on her rising stardom in the music industry. The song begins with the Serenity Prayer, an invocation that originated in the 1930s before becoming a staple of Alcoholics Anonymous in the 1940s. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change,” she says. “Courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” As a mission statement, it’s undeniably effective. Later, in the first verse, there are revealing lines describing her new personal and professional reality. “I am not like I was before/I thought that nothing would change me,” she declares at one point, before adding, “I’d said I don’t want anymore/Because of bad experience.” It’s hard not to project part of her narrative onto those words, to read a clear loss of innocence in those prose as fame came calling.
The LP’s first side is full of vivid, open-veined songwriting. “Three Babies” grapples with O’Connor’s three miscarriages to that point in her life, along with doubts as to whether she was actually a good mother. “The Emperor’s New Clothes” builds on those themes by addressing her struggles navigating an illegitimate pregnancy in a staunch Catholic environment. At the same time, she began getting noticed for her music at a young age. Her lyrics describe her frustration with the unsolicited “advice” she was getting seemingly from everyone who walked in (and presumably out of) her life around that time. But, as she sings towards the end of the track, “I will live by my own policies/I will sleep with a clear conscience/I will sleep in peace.” It’s important to remember that O’Connor was just 23 years old when I Do Not Want was released in 1990 and even younger when she grappled with this kind of serious tumult. To emerge from that struggle this assured is remarkable. Or, more accurately, remarkably fearless.
There’s also “Black Boys on Mopeds,” a powerful protest song similar to her SNL performance, predates the modern Black Lives Matter movement by several decades. The song calls out the British police’s abysmal track record regarding police brutality, wrongful detention of minorities, and other forms of truly ugly racial harassment. The title refers to Nicholas Bramble, a youth who died after crashing his moped while being pursued by law enforcement. Authorities claimed at the time that Bramble’s death was accidental and that they had every right to do what he did. O’Connor chalked it up to standard-issue discrimination. The song is an arresting example of how incisive and abrasive her writing could be—totally unafraid to name names, regardless of who she pissed off in the process. The opening verse still has the ability to shock with how deep its lyrics cut:
Margaret Thatcher on TV
Shocked by the deaths that took place in Beijing
It seems strange that she should be offended
The same orders are given by her
The I Do Not Want liner notes also reference Colin Roach, a 21-year-old Black man who died from a fatal gunshot wound after entering a police station in Hackney, a borough of the city of London, England. An inquest later ruled his death a suicide, claiming Roach had been the one to pull the trigger. However, with rampant reports of police brutality and various forms of reprehensible racial harassment, there were allegations of a cover-up by local law enforcement and government officials. O’Connor thanked the Roach family by name, captioning an image of Roach’s parents with the words, "God's place is the world; but the world is not God's place."
All that greatness aside, the reason why most people (maybe some of you reading right now) know of this record and Sinéad O’Connor in general is her cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U.” The pop music legend penned the track in 1984, the year Purple Rain dominated the cultural zeitgeist. Though it became a popular staple of his live shows, particularly after O’Connor turned it into a No. 1 hit on the Hot 100, he never released an official studio version before he passed away. The demo version that’s circulated on various greatest hits compilations is a brooding R&B breakup ballad. However, I’m not sure it would’ve made a dent in his unparalleled run of classic mid-80s singles. It’s not an indictment of “Nothing Compares 2 U” but an admission that, at his peak, Prince wrote so many masterpieces that casting this one aside made no difference to him.
Before O’Connor covered it, the song was initially released by the Family, a band that was a restructured version of the Time following Morris Day’s departure. The group didn’t last long, breaking up after a single live gig and only one LP to their name. After that, Prince lost interest in pursuing the project and absorbed most of its members into his Revolution backing band. By the time the song made its way onto the recording list for I Do Not Want, O’Connor had teamed with Nellee Hooper, who’s best known for co-writing and co-producing the Soul II Soul’s “Back to Life (However Do You Want Me),” an incredible R&B groove from the late-80s. I point all this out to contrast just how little of the original energy made its way into the arrangement for O’Connor’s cover. There’s no R&B present. In fact, there’s very little present, period—beyond layered vocals, massive-sounding drums, and some synths.
The success of her version of “Nothing Compares 2 U” rests on her singing. The performance is simple, direct, and yet totally engrossing, a big part of the reason why the stripped-down music video worked so well. It’s a song that, despite being so heart-wrenching, can also provide you a proverbial shoulder to cry on. Sinéad needs comfort too, but she’s here for you. She’s got you. You’re in this together, the song seems to be saying. Each crescendo tunnels deep into the dark side of her psyche. Anger, agony, and, finally, some level of acceptance regarding her mother’s death. It’s all out there for the world to see. The final bridge before the outro, accompanied visually by those unplanned tears in the video, is absolutely devastating.
All the flowers that you planted, mama, in the backyard
All died when you went away
I know that living with you, baby, was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to give it another try
O’Connor’s pop music star faded soon after this album’s promotional cycle ended, though she remained popular in the UK and various European countries until her death in 2023 at age 56. Since then, a lot of retrospectives have pointed out just how ahead of her time she was when it came to socially conscious messaging through music. But few people grasp just how courageous you have to be to fight through what she had to fight through once she was thrust into the spotlight. "Everyone wants a pop star, see?" she wrote in her memoir. "But I am a protest singer. I just had stuff to get off my chest. I had no desire for fame."
Like I said, fearless.
A brilliant album indeed. I’ve always had such respect for her and the fearlessness that you so rightly mentioned. I absolutely adored The Lion and The Cobra and this follow up exceeded my lofty expectations. It’s an all-timer.
I loved this review Matt, one of the best pieces you’ve ever written IMO
What a lovely review of one of the finest albums ever. It’s a masterpiece and you gave it its due, Matt. Well done!