Singer-songwriters armed with acoustic guitars are
hardly a rarity. For every hundred or so soulful musicians,
bemoaning lost love to the same tunes we’ve heard a thousand times
before, there are only a handful of artists that manage to stand
out. With that said, Damien Rice is truly one of those. Managing to
create one of the year’s most outstanding sleeper hits, Irish
import Rice has crafted an intense album with just guitars, cello
and his signature melancholy vocals.
Haunting and melodic, Rice has taken the best of Jeff
Buckley, Dave Matthews Band and Don McLean and emerged with his own
distinctive blend that defies the folk label placed upon him.
O is one of those few albums that leave its mark on you from
first listen. Rice has injected all the passion and honesty that’s
been absent from numerous releases lately into his modest debut. He
manages to find beauty in any and every emotion and wastes no time
submitting to tired, typical clichés.
The album manages to grab you in from the start with
the pleading desperation of “Volcano” and the understated yearning
of the albums’ standout track, “The Blower’s Daughter” (some
useless trivia — it was featured prominently in the movie
Closer, and hearing it in the commercial is what prompted me
to go on an insane search for the artist behind the mysterious
song!)
With the stunning simplicity of lyrics like, “Stones
taught me to fly / love taught me to lie / life taught me to die”
from the album’s instant favorite, “Cannonball,” Rice has created a
masterful album that grips you from the beginning and flows along
with an incredible sense of ease.
My only qualm with the album is the myriad of extra
songs shoved into the sixteen minute long “Eskimo,” which could
have easily been sliced into separate tracks – especially when one
is just a continuation of the previous track. But then again, that
could just be me nitpicking for a flaw in this near-perfect
album.
O is an endearing debut whose beauty will
stick with you far after you’re done listening.
