Platinalbum. Nominiert für drei irische Music Awards. Und bei Latetalker
Conan O'Brien war Damien Rice auch schon zu Gast. Ja, jenseits des Ärmelkanals
ist der Songwriter schon ein Star. Jetzt will er seine traurige Stimme
auch in Rest-Europa zur Akustikgitarre erklingen lassen. Er singt von
Frauen, die ihn nicht verstehen ("You give me mountains, I asked
for the sea"). Von Frauen, die den anderen Typen heiraten. Und manchmal,
ganz vorsichtig, von Frauen, die ihn glücklich machen. Leise leiden
kann er allerdings am besten. Den dröhnenden finnischen Operngesang
am Ende hätten wir deshalb nicht vermisst.
(mel, Kulturnews)
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Platinalbum. Nominiert für drei irische Music Awards. Und bei Latetalker
Conan O'Brien war Damien Rice auch schon zu Gast. Ja, jenseits des Ärmelkanals
ist der Songwriter schon ein Star. Jetzt will er seine traurige Stimme
auch in Rest-Europa zur Akustikgitarre erklingen lassen. Er singt von
Frauen, die ihn nicht verstehen ("You give me mountains, I asked
for the sea"). Von Frauen, die den anderen Typen heiraten. Und manchmal,
ganz vorsichtig, von Frauen, die ihn glücklich machen. Leise leiden
kann er allerdings am besten. Den dröhnenden finnischen Operngesang
am Ende hätten wir deshalb nicht vermisst.
(Kulturnews)
|
Magnificently packaged in a CD-sized hardcover book filled with personal
artwork, lyrics, and photos, Damien Rice's debut full-length, O, is nothing
less than a work of genius, a perfect cross between Ryan Adams and David
Gray and a true contender for one of the best albums of 2003. This Irish
singer/songwriter works with impassioned folk songs that move from stripped-down
to grandly orchestrated in a heartbeat. The production is reminiscent
of Songs of Leonard Cohen -- simple guitars, vocals, and then those swelling
strings, all of which sound like they were recorded right in the same
room. Rice is master of what critic/ranter Richard Meltzer called "the
unknown tongue" -- basically the musical equivalent of the "punctum"
in photos, it's that thing that grabs a hold of you, the detail that makes
it happen. For example, on "Delicate" the strings lift the spare
folk song to the heavens at just the moment that makes the song soar --
Meltzer might call it the "folk tongue" or maybe even the "epic
tongue." The magnificent, melancholy, optimistic, longing, almost
magical "The Blower's Daughter" comes in immediately as the
previous song, "Volcano," ends -- same thing with the song that
follows -- which gives the album a broad, operatic quality. The gentle
"Cannonball," the bright strumming and surreal feedback on "Amie,"
the distant piano and oceanic harmonies (not to mention drowning, backwards
vocals) on the duet, Cold Water" -- the entire record makes the empty
highway less lonely, the sunshine a little warmer, and life a little more
poetic. Then there's the actual opera singer doing backup vocal duties
on "Eskimo" -- a song of redemption that is Syd Barrett, is
Skip Spence, is Grandaddy and is Mercury Rev and everything that implies.
What a metaphor for Rice's entire hopelessly beautiful record -- one long
angelic hymn for an insane world with the intimacy of a friend playing
guitar in your living room and the grandeur of Sigur Rós.
(by Charles Spano, All
Music Guide)
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