The world mourned the loss of Irish singer-songwriter Sinéad O’Connor on Wednesday at the age of 56. Her enduring legacy includes a feat many deem impossible: crafting a Prince song that eclipsed the original. This is the story of how “Nothing Compares 2 U” became indelibly hers.
Prince, a prolific songwriter, gifted countless songs to other artists. Remarkably, some of these compositions seemed destined for female voices. Think of The Bangles’ rendition of “Manic Monday,” Chaka Khan’s electrifying “I Feel for You,” and Sheila E.’s vibrant “The Glamorous Life.” Even Cyndi Lauper’s take on “When U Were Mine” arguably surpasses Prince’s own. These reinterpretations often unveiled new emotional layers within Prince’s work.
However, Sinéad O’Connor’s 1990 rendition of “Nothing Compares 2 U,” from her album I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, transcends mere interpretation. It was a sonic and emotional appropriation. Forget the initial permissions or business dealings; Sinéad claimed this song as her own on a fundamental level. She didn’t just sing it; she inhabited it, reshaping its very essence. This audacious act of artistic reclamation is akin to Nicolas Cage declaring his intent to steal the Declaration of Independence – bold, unexpected, and ultimately, iconic. And she succeeded.
But who was this artist capable of such a feat? What drove her to such profound emotional expression? In her 2021 memoir, Rememberings, O’Connor offered a raw and unflinching look at her life. Born in Glenageary, Ireland, in 1966, she endured a turbulent childhood marked by the separation of her parents and, by her account, severe abuse at the hands of her mother. Details were stark: beatings with a carpet-sweeper pole, forced declarations of worthlessness. This trauma, she hinted, shaped both the vulnerability and the fierce resilience that defined her voice. Her mother’s death in a car accident at 18 coincided with the dawn of her music career, a confluence of events that perhaps illuminates the complex emotional landscape of her artistry.
The Paradox of Success
The typical pop star narrative often follows a trajectory of rise, peak fame, and eventual decline. Even amidst the excesses, there’s usually a period of basking in success. Yet, O’Connor’s experience defied this norm. She recounts in her memoir the moment she learned of the unprecedented success of “Nothing Compares 2 U” and I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, both topping the US charts simultaneously. Her reaction, however, was far from celebratory. Instead of joy, she felt overwhelmed, weeping “like a child at the gates of hell.” This anecdote reveals a fundamental disconnect between conventional notions of pop stardom and O’Connor’s deeply personal and often painful relationship with fame.
Her debut album in 1987, The Lion and the Cobra, bore a title steeped in biblical imagery, drawn from Psalm 91: “You will tread on the lion and the cobra.” This powerful imagery reflected her own internal battles and spiritual fortitude. The album cover itself, featuring O’Connor with a shaved head and open mouth, was deemed too aggressive by her record label. They preferred a demure, downcast image. But O’Connor resisted. She wasn’t screaming; she was singing, and her raw, unfiltered expression was her artistic truth. The album’s lead single, “Mandinka,” inspired by the miniseries Roots, further showcased her willingness to tackle weighty themes of oppression and identity, drawing parallels between historical slavery and her own experiences.
I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, her sophomore album, arrived in 1990, its title derived from a dreamlike communication with her deceased mother. This dream, tinged with themes of forgiveness and self-awareness, became the cornerstone of an album grappling with complex emotional terrain. The opening track, “Feels So Different,” directly addressed her relationship with her mother, setting the album’s introspective and often melancholic tone.
Forgiveness, and its often-heavy burden, became a central theme. O’Connor explored the idea that forgiveness can be more demanding than resentment, a notion that resonated throughout her career. “I Am Stretched on Your Grave,” sampling James Brown’s “Funky Drummer,” continued her exploration of maternal themes. “Three Babies” touched upon the pain of miscarriage and the joy of motherhood. Even on the seemingly lighter “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” her lyrics carried a sharp, uncompromising edge, hinting at the underlying intensity that permeated her work.
“Black Boys on Mopeds” confronted social injustice head-on, addressing the deaths of Black teenagers in London during a police chase. The song’s stark chorus, “England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses / It’s the home of police who kill Black boys on mopeds,” was a powerful indictment of systemic racism. This album was not designed for easy listening; it was a confrontation with uncomfortable truths.
“Nothing Compares 2 U”: Reclaiming a Prince Ballad
Then came track six: “Nothing Compares 2 U.” Penned by Prince and originally released in 1985 by his side project, The Family, the song initially garnered modest attention. St. Paul (Paul Joseph Peterson) delivered a soulful rendition, but it remained largely within Prince’s dedicated fanbase.
Prince’s own perspective on the song, revealed in his posthumous memoir The Beautiful Ones, linked it to the trauma of his parents’ divorce. He described the song as stemming from “that knowledge” of heartbreak and loss, born from witnessing his mother’s late-night pleas to his absent father.
However, Sinéad O’Connor infused “Nothing Compares 2 U” with a profoundly different “knowledge”—her own. She channeled her personal pain, specifically her complex relationship with her mother, into the lyrics. For many listeners, and arguably for O’Connor herself, the song became inextricably linked to this maternal loss and longing.
The music video, directed by John Maybury, was revolutionary in its simplicity and emotional impact. Largely consisting of a close-up of O’Connor singing against a black backdrop, it was a stark departure from the bombastic, effects-laden videos dominating MTV. The shaved head, a defiant act against record label pressures to conform to conventional femininity, became a powerful visual symbol of her artistic integrity. The raw emotion culminating in tears during the bridge was undeniably authentic, amplifying the song’s vulnerability. In an era of manufactured pop spectacle, O’Connor offered unadulterated emotional truth.
The video’s impact was undeniable. It resonated deeply with audiences, propelling the song to global success and solidifying O’Connor’s status as a major artist. In 1991, Rolling Stone readers crowned her Artist of the Year, Album of the Year (I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got), and Song of the Year (“Nothing Compares 2 U”). Yet, this acclaim was accompanied by controversy. Her refusal to have the national anthem played at a New Jersey show ignited public backlash, foreshadowing the polarizing nature of her career.
Despite the song’s success, O’Connor’s relationship with “Nothing Compares 2 U” became complicated, particularly due to her fraught interactions with Prince. In interviews, she revealed a disturbing encounter where Prince allegedly physically threatened her. This experience soured her connection to the song, blurring the lines between the art and the artist in a deeply unsettling way.
Her memoir Rememberings provided a more detailed and disturbing account of this encounter. Summoned to Prince’s Los Angeles residence, she described a bizarre and menacing evening involving soup, a pillow fight with a weighted pillow, and a terrifying chase through the woods as she fled his aggression. This incident left a lasting scar, further complicating her feelings towards the song and its creator.
The question of separating art from the artist becomes particularly acute in such cases. Can we fully appreciate “Nothing Compares 2 U” without acknowledging the complex and sometimes troubling figures of both Prince and O’Connor? Perhaps not entirely. Art is imbued with the artist’s meaning, experiences, and perspectives. Mourning Prince’s untimely death in 2016 from an accidental overdose is separate from confronting the complexities of his personality and actions. Similarly, celebrating O’Connor’s artistic brilliance requires acknowledging her outspokenness and at times controversial stances.
In 2018, Prince’s original 1984 studio recording of “Nothing Compares 2 U” was posthumously released. While a poignant reminder of his songwriting genius, it lacked the raw emotional depth and transformative power of O’Connor’s rendition. It was a reminder that a song can evolve and deepen in meaning through the lens of a different artist’s experience.
O’Connor possessed a unique ability to see into the emotional core of a song, to inhabit it completely. She described a near-psychic ability to visualize the interiors of people’s homes, sensing their hidden lives and vulnerabilities. Her version of “Nothing Compares 2 U” feels like an act of emotional clairvoyance, an exploration of the inner chambers of Prince’s song, revealing depths perhaps even he hadn’t fully realized. While Prince wrote a beautiful song, O’Connor unlocked its profound emotional potential. She wrung more meaning from a single word – try – than some artists achieve in entire albums:
I know that livin’ with you baby was sometimes hard
But I’m willing to give it another try
This yearning, this willingness to persevere in the face of heartbreak, resonated deeply in O’Connor’s voice, transforming Prince’s lyrics into a universal anthem of love and loss.
In 1992, on Saturday Night Live, O’Connor further cemented her reputation as an uncompromising artist. She sang Bob Marley’s “War” a cappella, and in a moment of shocking protest against child abuse in the Catholic Church, tore up a picture of Pope John Paul II, declaring, “Fight the real enemy.” This act, using a photo of the Pope that belonged to her deceased mother, was undeniably punk rock, a defiant challenge to institutional power. The ensuing backlash, including a lifetime ban from NBC, paled in comparison to the issue she was highlighting. O’Connor consistently spoke her truth, regardless of the consequences.
Sinéad O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” remains a definitive artistic statement, not just a cover song. It stands as a testament to her unique interpretive genius and her unparalleled ability to channel profound emotion into music. No one compares to you, Sinéad, for making this song your own and for leaving an indelible mark on music history.
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Rob Harvilla
Rob Harvilla is a senior staff writer at The Ringer and the host/author of ‘60 Songs That Explain the ’90s,’ though the podcast is now called ‘60 Songs That Explain the ’90s: The 2000s,’ a name everyone loves. He lives with his family in Columbus, Ohio, by choice.
