Damien Rice’s debut album O was one of the big success stories of 2002, garnering widespread critical acclaim and shifting over 2 million copies worldwide – half of which were purchased in the UK alone.
And deservedly so, as it was blessed with an emotional intensity and intimacy unheard of in the majority of today’s overproduced singer songwriters – music like ‘The Blower’s Daughter’, a fascinating tale of obsession, which benefited from the sparse arrangements of acoustic guitar, cello and muted percussion featured throughout the album, and also the exquisite interplay between Rice and female vocalist Lisa Hannigan.
And now, after a ridiculously long spell on the sidelines (presumably seeking inspiration, cashing cheques, etc), the onetime Irish busker has returned.
Entitled 9, Rice wrote, recorded and produced the album, as well as designing all of the artwork. Okay, now he’s just showing off.
They say:
Gigwise: “His rawest and gutsiest tracks yet.”
We say:
To say 9 was worth the wait would be the biggest understatement since someone last warned Britney Spears that Kevin Federline may be bad for her pop career, as it not only outstrips the emotional nakedness and raw musicality of O but perhaps anything else released this year.
The album opens with ‘9 Crimes’, with Lisa Hannigan’s hushed Tori Amos like vocals and accompanying piano haunted by betrayal and regret, then soon entangled in Rice’s guilt and self loathing (“Leave me out with the trash/This is not what I do/It’s the wrong kind of place/To be cheating on you”).
The tone, thus set, is maintained throughout, as Rice locates new depths of lyrical despair, bittersweet romanticism and sexual longing, such as on the Jacques Brel esque ‘The Animals Were Gone’, the wistful ‘Grey Room’ and the folk rock inflected ‘Rootless Tree’ – the latter of which sounds all biscuits and tea until the chorus arrives, Rice spitting, “Fuck you/Fuck you/Fuck you and all we’ve been through!”
All the way through, cello and strings offer some catharsis, stirring our souls and punching a hole right through the darkness, though even then the beams of light feel a tad intense.
Indeed, if Sigmund Freud were alive today, 9 would be his album of choice for warring lovers. “You think you’ve got it bad? Check this shit out.” Or, err, something like that.
Like this? Try these:
Tori Amos – A Piano: The Collection
David Gray – A New Day at Midnight
Jacques Brel – Infiniment
RELEASED
6th Nov ‘06
LABEL
14th Floor Records
POSTED...
Fri 3 Nov 2006 at 6:16pm
