Elly Roberts reviews
Damien Rice: 9
Distributed by
14th Floor
- Released: November 2006
- Rating: 8/10
- Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics
Already, the question has to asked. Is Damien Rice a one-trick pony?
The answer is an emphatic – Yes. But what a trick. His penchant pained
approach continues on what can only be considered 'O' part two. Damien
Rice doesn’t do poppy radio friendly tunes.
Damien Rice doesn’t do loud music very well. He doesn’t do grand album titles
either. What he does do - and this is the trick - is intimate, powerfully
emotive music that, eventually, gets under your skin. It’s not instant, but
everything is targeted to you, not at you – there’s big difference: few manage
it.
Proof was his stunning slow-burner from 2002, which became a huge hit primarily
through word of mouth. So, writing ‘difficult album number two’ must have a
daunting task. Well maybe not, however there is one serious problem with this
album.
There’s a dangerous element of predictability coming through. Some might say
it’s his trademark.
Overall the melancholic template remains the same. This may well be a more
instant hit, though it lacks some its predecessor’s gems, i.e. The Blowers
Daughter, Cannonball, and Volcano.
It’s also a brave move to have a guest singer opening your album. It does show
supreme confidence though. Rice works best on the quieter end of the decibels.
With the gentle tinkling ivories and hushed songbird Lisa Hannigan, 9 Crimes
(the first single out on November 20), is a song verging on total fragility -
so fragile it’s about to shatter at any moment like the mutual adultery it
charts. So tender and beautiful, especially when the swaying violin kicks in,
leading a gradual crescendo – a truly stunning start.
Strummed intro of The Animals Were Gone has some magnificent sweeping
strings and choral exploits, making it the CDs opus. In a similar vein,
Elephant is his most pained offering to date. His wavering falsetto
only adds to the drama, punctuated by equally dramatic pauses.
Rootless Tree (with explicit lyrics) begins as an acoustic plodder,
eventually turning into incredible sonic blasts by repeated chorus. Things
calm down for Dogs, with his lightweight guitar supported by sublime
strings and catchy hooks. Back with frenetic strumming, Coconut Skins
could be confused for David Gray: it’s the most stripped back song here.
Least effective is the brooding heaviness of Me, My Yoke And I – a
totally cacophonous waster. Back at his most comfortable territory, simple
Grey Room is most welcome, though it’s not a strong song by any means,
again sounding like Gray. Accidental Babies is as serene as Rice can
be – a hushed vocal backed by haunting piano becomes a stunning pre-closer.
Peculiar endings don’t come more bizarre than the 20 minutes worth of Sleep
Don’t Weep, where (pointlessly) he only gives us about 5 minutes of a song,
with the remaining 15 barely audible as is slides to a gradual end. Hannigan
adds more stirring backups and a duet, leaving us in no doubt that Rice still
has lot more in his cannon.
Damien Rice’s cave is very deep and dark, but he does let some sunshine in,
occasionally.
Week commencing 13th November, it entered at No.4 in the UK album charts.
The full list of tracks included are :
DVDs reviewed by the editor are watched on a Panasonic TXW32R4 32" widescreen TV
connected to either a Creative Dxr2 DVD-ROM player or Microsoft Xbox and
played through a Sony STR-DB930 amplifier.
Review & concert pics copyright © Elly Roberts, 2004-2008.
