Damien Rice: 9
Monday, 06 Nov 2006 11:05
Far less radio-friendly than its predecessor but 9 saunters with natural grace
14th Floor, November 6th.
In a nutshell…
Thoughtful, creative, emotional, observational, inspirational
What's it all about?
Strikingly, the second album from Irish sweetheart Damien Rice begins with the voice of not he but a lady, a sure sign of a singer who possesses complete confidence in his ability. And that confidence is by no means unfounded.
The track, 9 Crimes, is also the album's first single and offers a sheepish, harmonic tale of mutual adultery, a theme that precedes an introspective array of lyric-heavy, lovely melodies. The lady is Lisa Hannigan, the honey-voiced star who also accompanied Rice on his first album, O, released in 2002.
Intriguingly-entitled The Animals Are Gone rings with dark echoes of Nick Cave and entails another journey through lovelorn loneliness, but the image-inducing Rapunzel references save it from the abyss of blatant self-pity. Jealous ballad Accidental Babies tortures itself with thoughts of another body touching its beloved, while Grey Room contemplates the gloomy days when good music just won't be written – days, we suspect, that are few and far between for Rice.
Meanwhile, the barely-strummed acoustic guitar teases like an elusive lover just as the sliding electric effect on Me, My Yoke and I shows almost visible pain and - as Q magazine so perfectly penned it - sounds a bit like "primal scream therapy". Only three of the songs tamper with the electric guitar, while the rest seduce the listener with quietly-played piano, achingly hushed guitar and the inescapable power of both Rice and Hannigan's voices.
Admittedly, most songs on this album are based around the classic broken relationship theme, but somehow it evades being downright nauseating by displaying a genuine and very real talent.
Who's it by?
Mr Rice began his solo career dangling his legs over a stage while supporting the likes of Kathryn Williams (low-key Scouse folk talent) circa 2001 and accidentally found himself – after the belated discovery of stunning album O and many a dodged interview later - on your auntie's coffee table.
In fact, the Dublin-born boy long ago functioned as part of a band, Juniper for Tuscany, but jumped ship when they began to verge on the cusp of commercial success. He then veered off into his own territory and, after another failed attempt at escaping his far-reaching popularity, provided us with a second much-needed fix of soaring vocals and impressive tune-craftsmanship.
This man renders the efforts of James Blunt and his hopeful imitators even more futile and laughable than they already were.
As an example…
"Time is contagious, everybody's getting old." (Coconut Skies)
"Oh, I know I left you, in places of despair.
Oh, I know I love you, so please throw down your hair.
At night I sleep without you
And hope I don't wake up.
'cause waking up without you
Is like drinking from an empty cup." (The Animals Are Gone)
What the others say
"Rice, you suspect, doesn't really do instant. He does, though, do long-term satisfaction, which explains both O's commercial success and 9's creative triumph." - John Aizlewood, Q magazine.
"His second album finds him no longer trembling on the brink of romantic meltdown, but wallowing in the deepest pit of despair." - Mat Snow, The Guardian
So is it any good?
Moving on from his status as angst-ridden one-hit wonder, with the long-anticipated release of 9 Damien Rice has established himself as a relatively enduring talent for his generation. And beyond, probably.
While far less radio-friendly than its predecessor, 9 saunters with natural grace through ten tracks that ooze characteristic finesse and charm, with added lashings of maturity and jaded sexuality. It has no Cannonball or Volcano but it doesn't need one in order to justify itself – without being "catchy", every beat of this album and every careful word sticks in your mind with effortless self-assurance.
Dashing the low expectations of cynics, Damien Rice's 9 is heart-flipping, gut-gushing, soul-snatching pop at its very best.
9 ½/10
Kate Horstead
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