I'd repeatedly been on the spittle-flecked end of a rave by my brother over how "like, totally amazing, man" this guy from Dublin was that he'd seen supporting Counting Crows on their tour last year. I eventually got hold of the album (a very cool wood and fabric cover and all) and on playing it realised that I had stumbled into something very, very special indeed.

This is an album which has defined great music for me these last eighteen months. It's one of those records that the first time you play it, you know you're still gonna be listening to it in twenty years marvelling over how wonderful it is. This is an album which has bagloads of power, a sackful of amazing tunes and an architect steeped in the arts of magical songcraft, with a fantastically emotive voice to boot.

So why is this review in the new releases section of the 'Fist? Well, the long and short of the matter is that Mr Rice got himself a major record deal and this month marks stage two of his bid for world domination.

Originally released on his own Dublin-based label DRM, O is a self-produced debut of extreme power. The backing comes courtesy of the multi-talented man himself as well as a cast of what I imagine to be a rag-tag bunch of muso buddies and ex-girlfriends who contribute to making O the most amazing album I've heard in, well, ever.

There is truly not a bad song on it. From the opener Delicate to the bonus track (a reworked, perfectly reworded version of Silent Night) you will be thrown headfirst into an intoxicating mix of folk and pop, country and indie-rock. These songs are amazingly powerful emotionally, deeply confessional and complusively addictive. Recorded almost entirely in his Dublin flat, they have a homespun and atmospheric quality that swallows the listener whole.

The opening three tracks meld into each other, producing an organic but individually stunning intro to Damien Rice's world of fucked up lovers, lost opportunites and raging symbolism. Volcano sees Rice detailing his dreams and needs for a relationship, only for his other half (the caustically beautiful vioce of Lisan Hannigan) to cut them all down as her vocal sears across the substance of the song. This perfectly pitched meeting of male and female, hope and cynicism is repeated throughout the album, and is at the heart of many of these compositions, bringing another addictive edge of underlying conflict to the songs.

Tough love runs like a river through the entire album, whether it be for lusted after women (the incomparably beautiful The Blower's Daughter) or for family, as in the heart-wrenchingly sad but tear-drop perfect Older Chests. This last track in particular contains some of the best poetry to be heard in song today; Rice is a superlative story-teller and conveyer of feeling as well as a master arranger and performer of stunning songs.

Don't be fooled by the music press frenzy that is now being worked up around this man, the belated hijacking of the bandwagon after his mind-blowing Glastonbury performance, new record deal and a PR machine working overtime. This bloke from Dublin is the real deal. Comparisons to David Gray are inevitable (huge in Ireland, re-released albums, horrible re-mixes of singles) but Damien Rice has come armed with a canon of songs primed and targeted to enrich our lives and our CD collections.

by Sandy Nelson
22/10/03 http://www.robotfist.com/031022/031022_36.htm