Thursday, January 18, 2018

Dolores O'Riordan: Remembering Her Legacy

Death, whether we like to think about it or not, is a part of life. Life cannot exist without death, and death cannot exist without life. People pass away and leave us every single day, and in fact, if Blue Öyster Cult is to be believed, the approximate number of people who die per day on a global scale is 40,000. (That's 14,600,000 per year if, as I said, Blue Öyster Cult is to be believed.) That knowledge does not lessen the pain, however, when either someone that we know and/or love personally or someone who somehow touched our lives leaves this plane, and while I did not know Dolores O'Riordan personally, she definitely touched my life. Born on September 6, 1971, O'Riordan found fame at a very young age in the early 1990s when, as frontwoman of the rock band The Cranberries, songs such as "Linger" and "Zombie" became humongous mainstream successes on a worldwide scale. Since then, she experimented with many different sounds, with The Cranberries dabbling in different genres such as hard rock (sometimes so hard, in fact, that it was borderline metal, with the aforementioned "Zombie" acting as a perfect example), pop, Celtic music, and so forth. Outside of The Cranberries, O'Riordan showcased a darker gothesque sound (a sound that she once said was inspired in part by Evanescence, my favorite band of all time) on her first solo album, Are You Listening?, and even experimented with electronic music as vocalist of the band D.A.R.K. As someone who not only experimented with many different sounds but could also sing, play guitar, play bass guitar, play piano, and so forth, she proved time and again that she was no one-trick-pony, and her music and her words touched the lives of countless fans.

On January 15, 2018, I opened up my news feed on Facebook to discover, much to my shock, that, at only forty-six years of age, O'Riordan had suddenly and unexpectedly passed away while in London for a recording session. As someone whose life was changed by this woman's music when I first became a fan nearly a decade ago (I believe that it was eight years ago to be more precise), I was devastated and could not stop my tears from falling. After the initial emotional shock, I went into a sort of denial, being unable to accept (or more accurately, comprehend) how someone who had seemed healthy and was still relatively young had slipped away so suddenly. O'Riordan, like many of us, did not necessarily live the happiest of lives. Although she remained relatively private about the details of her personal life, we do know that she divorced her husband of twenty years (love songs such as "Apple of My Eye" were written with him in mind) in 2014 and soon after experienced a meltdown on a plane, a meltdown that became so disruptive and violent that she was arrested. She later apologized for her behavior and ended up revealing that she had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. All of this weighs heavily on my mind as I ponder her death, for as of today, January 18, 2018 (three days later), we still don't know what the cause of death was. While the results of the postmortem obviously will not change the fact that she is unfortunately no longer with us, at least not physically, I feel like this excruciating loss will somehow be even more painful if O'Riordan's mental illness won the war that it had started with her. Also a devastating loss to music and its listeners was the loss of Chester Bennington, frontman of rock band Linkin Park, last summer, made all the more hard to swallow by the fact that he took his own life. While O'Riordan's death is devastating and tragic either way, I remain hopeful that that was not the case here.

What, however, made Dolores O'Riordan so special as a human being and as a musician? As I stated before, people die every single day, and most of those deaths don't get the media coverage or the mass outpouring of grief that David Bowie's or Chester Bennington's deaths did. Does that mean that celebrities and musicians are more important than us, that they are somehow meta-human or godlike as opposed to mere human like the rest of us? Of course not, but the truth is that most of us aren't lucky enough to have the talent and/or opportunity to leave behind a legacy, something that will be remembered for generations upon generations to come, if not forever. Artists who find widespread fame are lucky to an extent because they, in a sense, become immortal, leaving behind pieces of themselves that remain long after they are gone. O'Riordan also left behind a legacy of love. Although she divorced her husband in 2014, O'Riordan was, in fact, partnered with Olé Korestsky as of the date of her death. Koretsky was a fellow musician who was in D.A.R.K. with her, and he recently made a statement on Facebook regarding O'Riordan's death: "My friend, partner, and the love of my life is gone. My heart is broken and it is beyond repair. Dolores is beautiful. Her art is beautiful. Her family is beautiful. The energy she continues to radiate is undeniable. I am lost. I miss her so much. I will continue to stumble around this planet for some time knowing well there's no real place for me here now." This statement, to say the very least, is quite possibly the most heartbreaking statement that I have ever heard/read coming from someone who just lost his partner; it's absolutely heartbreaking, and it shows us the void that her passing has left in its wake. It shows us the intense love that she clearly shared with others during her time here on this plane.

Those listeners who were casual listeners remember O'Riordan primarily for songs such as the aforementioned "Linger" and "Zombie" and possibly songs such as "Dreams," "Ode to My Family," "Just My Imagination," etc., as well. This does unfortunately seem to make up a large portion of those who remember her, as I have seen so many people who are saddened by the news cite such songs as proof of her talent, and many people don't seem to know that O'Riordan was also a solo artist with two solo albums under her belt, nor are they even aware that The Cranberries remained active beyond the '90s. They also do not seem to be aware of her other project, D.A.R.K. While her vocal talent on "Zombie" cannot be disputed (especially since it's the perfect song to turn to when listening for how unique her voice was), O'Riordan wrote and sang music for decades of her life, and most of the more obscure material is just as good as, if not better than, the mainstream singles for which she is remembered. The Cranberries, between 1993 and 2017, recorded and released so many incredible and beautiful songs such as "Put Me Down," "Daffodil Lament," "Never Grow Old," "Waiting in Walthamstow," and so forth.  O'Riordan's solo album, Are You Listening? (released in 2007), is, in my humblest opinion, a masterpiece from start to finish, and it stands as one of my absolute favorite albums of all time. Her second solo album, No Baggage (which was released in 2009), also features memorable gems such as "The Journey" and the hauntingly beautiful piano ballad "Lunatic." Like many musicians, O'Riordan was shadowed by her mainstream hits, while much of her other work was largely ignored by mainstream media. I find that to be a shame, and one of my goals here is to help shed light on why that is.

Dolores O'Riordan was born in Ireland and was an Irish citizen. In fact, "Zombie," which is commonly and honestly shamefully misused as a Halloween song even though it actually has nothing to do with zombies, is about the Warrington bomb attacks of 1993, bombings caused by the Irish Republican Army in Warrington, England. What's more is that even though O'Riordan was Irish and not American, The Cranberries' 2002 song "New New York" was written to commemorate the fallen victims of the 9/11 attacks in 2001. The band's 1999 album Bury the Hatchet features a song called "Fee Fi Fo" (written solely by Dolores) on which Dolores sang of how she couldn't understand what kind of sick and vile impulses drove a person to sexually molest children. This was clearly a woman who cared about the world around her. She didn't write music merely about love and heartbreak like many musicians do but also about people suffering and dying because of senseless war and violence, about children feeling lost and mistreated. O'Riordan was a woman who exhibited empathy for those who, for one reason or another, were not as well off as she might have been, and she chose to share that empathy with the world via her music, her words, and her voice. She also frequently had sage advice to offer listeners, advice that has stuck with me over the last several years. A song probably known only by passionate fans who followed her closely, "Willow Pattern" is a song recorded for but unfortunately ultimately cut from her solo album Are You Listening?, and the song features the following warning in its chorus: "You should never take a thing for granted; you only miss it when it's gone, and it's stupid to be holding grudges because we only got so long." These are wise words if I have ever heard wise words, and they ring especially haunting so soon after her death.

While all of that is undeniably true, however, Dolores O'Riordan's music is music to which I have a personal connection, which is one reason why I have taken the shocking news of her unexpected death as harshly as I have. Flashback to summer of 2010. I was about a year into my relationship with the love of my life, the man whom I was convinced I was going to marry merely weeks into our relationship. I called him my sunshine because he had brought so much light into my life, a life that had seen so much darkness. (I don't mean to sound melodramatic, but it is the truth.) This guy was a dedicated fan of Dolores O'Riordan, and even though I had never really given her or The Cranberries much of a chance prior even though I had obviously heard songs such as "Linger" and "Zombie" (who hasn't?),  I love and have always loved music, so if I feel up to it, I am usually more than willing to listen to an artist and give them a fair chance before deciding whether or not I like them. Because of his love for her and the band, I wanted to try to immerse myself, as well, to see what it was that he might have loved about her. I therefore asked him one summer day when he had been coming over to visit me to bring his hard copies of her two solo albums with him, and he did. Those two albums served as my initial entrée into her music, and mainly because of the first solo album, Are You Listening?, I fell in love. Dark, heavy, and dramatic songs such as "In the Garden," "Stay with Me," and "Black Widow" reminded me so much of my favorite band, Evanescence (and, as I said, I later found out that she cited them as an inspiration). I couldn't believe that I had gone three years not knowing that this album had existed, and I listened to it over and over and over again. I couldn't help it; I was so drawn to and in love with her lush and beautiful music.

I also liked her second solo album, No Baggage (especially the aforementioned song "Lunatic"), but nowhere near as much as I loved Are You Listening?; it didn't get anywhere near as much play as the first one did. It was totally different in style and aesthetics, and even O'Riordan's hairstyle between the two albums was different. On the Are You Listening? album cover, she sported shoulder-length dark hair that reminded me of Lacuna Coil's Cristina Scabbia's usual hairstyle, but on the No Baggage album cover, she wore her hair much shorter and blonde. I, probably needless to say, became a fan very quickly, though, and felt the need to go through The Cranberries' catalogue and listen to their music, as well. I did love "Zombie," especially since it was dark and heavy, not too far removed from material on Are You Listening?, but I also discovered that many of the more obscure songs, such as the ones previously mentioned, were just as precious. (I also discovered that hairstyle changes were frequent for Dolores; she changed her hair up perhaps about as often as some people change their clothes. That and her infectious smile made her physically remarkable and memorable.) I quickly came to associate her music with my relationship with Raymond. (I wasn't going to mention his name, but it only seems right that I do.) This was not only because of the fact that it was because of him that I was a fan but also because love songs such as "Linger," "Apple of My Eye," "The Concept," "It's You," "When You're Gone," and so forth seemed to so perfectly encapsulate my very real and very intense feelings for him. I even made plans to play The Cranberries' song "7 Years" (which has a very strong country influence) to him on our seventh anniversary of being together (which would have been April 13, 2016) and maybe even ask him to slow dance to the song with me.

As some of you can probably surmise and as some of you may even already know, this story unfortunately does not have a happy ending. No, he did not pass away. While I certainly do not wish death on him, that would have perhaps made this story even more romantic and tragic à la Romeo & Juliet, but no, he broke my heart multiple times, lying to me and making promises that he never kept. The third and final time was in early July of 2014, which resulted in a serious suicide attempt on my end because I couldn't imagine my life without him. I loved him and loved his company that much. Not only that, but it was so hard to swallow the fact that Dolores O'Riordan would no longer be a staple of my relationship with a man whom I loved dearly, so in a sense, I attempted to end my life not only because of my love for him but because of my love for Dolores and her music. I will admit that for a very long time (years even) following my unsuccessful suicide attempt and having to live without him, I shunned O'Riordan's music because it was too painful to hear. I cursed under (and sometimes even above) my breath when I walked into a store or restaurant and heard "Linger." I never listened to anything of hers, not even Are You Listening?, and I eventually felt that I needed to come to terms with that, that I had not only lost my soulmate but also Dolores and her music. While I still can't really listen to "Linger" (which has honestly never really been one of my favorites, anyway), healing fortunately happened, and that pain faded in intensity. I therefore eventually realized that I was able to listen to her music without pain because even though he had exposed me to her and even though we did share her music together, she had become just as much mine as she had been his.

This has hopefully shed some light on why Dolores O'Riordan and her music were and are so important to me and why her passing has been so difficult for me. When David Bowie passed away, I, of course, felt and understood the loss to the world of music; he was, after all, a legend. When Chester Bennington died, I shed some tears, not only because of my personal connection to mental illness and to suicide but also because I had been a fan of Linkin Park since approximately 2002, so fifteen years of my life. Linkin Park was ahead of its time and was paving the way for so many rock and metal acts to follow, and that was a devastating loss. This is definitely the first time, however, that the loss of a musician has hit me this hard, which is mainly because this is the first time that the loss of a musician has felt so personal to me. Despite her misleading and misunderstood meltdown on a plane four years ago in 2014, I truly believe Dolores O'Riordan to have been a kind and sweet soul who offered so much to the world surrounding her, and I cannot stress enough how devastating that losing her has been and will continue to be. I think that she was the first to leave us this year in 2018, and this one definitely hurts. I remember once saying quite a while ago that I loved Are You Listening? so much that it would be difficult for her to ever top that, either via a third solo album or another album with The Cranberries (the latter of which, titled Roses, was released in 2012, although it was not quite as good as Are You Listening?), and she now won't even have the opportunity to (although she was recording music with D.A.R.K. prior to her death, and the band has said that they do plan to release said music), which is so sickeningly upsetting and heartbreaking to think about. Fly high, Dolores O'Riordan, and I hope to see you on the other side so that I can personally tell you how much that your music meant and means to me.


I would also like to share my poem titled "46," which I wrote in memoriam:

Capturing hearts with art
Is such a rare talent,
One that only few of us exhibit,
As is the ability to see the world around you
As something exquisitely larger than yourself.
You were a rarity,
Someone who could examine the world
From the perspective of an abused child,
A childless mother,
A casualty of war,
A 9/11 victim,
And not just from the perspective of
A loving mother who wanted the best
For her daughter
Or of a rock star who sometimes loathed
The fame that a song,
A commonly misunderstood song,
Brought her
(Although such perspectives
Were just as valid
And just as important.)
My heart broke on the day
That you faithfully departed,
For your departure came far too soon.
We will miss you when you’re gone,
But fly high, Angel Fire,
And never grow old.

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