9

Damien Rice is a bit of an anomaly... despite his songs being featured in oodles of movies and television shows this side of 2002, he still seems to have some street credit left with the indie music snobs. After what has felt like an eternity, he is releasing his sophomore effort, 9, on November 14 (the 6th in the UK). It has been a long hard road for Damo fans since O was released, but in this reviewer's opinion, the fruits of his labor are more than worth the wait.

So, say you're Damien Rice. You release your debut album to torrential critical acclaim. How in the name of all things holy do you follow that up? Very, very carefully. Let's be honest... Damo didn't exactly do himself any favors by waiting nearly five years to release O's successor. Expectations have been building to a fevered pitch, systematically decreasing the likelihood of acclaim anywhere near that of O. Is it possible to build on what made O so astonishingly beautiful - minimalist instrumentation, tortured vocals, and lyrics that don't just tug at your heart strings, but sever the damn things right in two? The answer lurking in the 10 tracks of 9 is a resounding "yes!".

When I first heard the reports of a new Damien Rice album, my reaction was pure joy. I had to consciously restrain myself from getting my hopes up too high; that's how much I love O. In the long run it helped to NOT expect another O, but to take 9 for what it is. The album gets off to a rather unexpected start with 9 Crimes when the first voice you hear is not Damien, but Lisa Hannigan, long-time member of Damien's band. My first spin of the album left me pleasantly surprised. It's packed with trademark Damien crescendos. You know the ones... the songs that start off quite mellow but build to a fierce mass of emotion then back down again (see - or rather, hear - The Blower's Daughter or I Remember on O; Elephant, Rootless Tree or Me My Yoke And I on 9). Further spins have undeniably seen this new album digging it's emotive claws right into my skin and refusing to let go.

It's difficult not to compare the old with the new... Take Cheers Darlin' vs. Rootless Tree for example. Although very different in tempo and intensity, both are unequivocally "fuck you" songs. How about Cannonball vs. Accidental Babies? The "please take me back" songs. One more - Delicate vs. Elephant: both essentially about settling for what's comfortable. I guess these comparisons are the crux of this review - that more of the same isn't necessarily a bad thing in Damo's case. Cannonball (the original version, mind you, not the radio edit rubbish), in my oh so very humble opinion, is one of the best songs recorded in modern times. So when Accidental Babies comes along with lyrics, vocals and instrumentation just as genuine and just as moving... who can complain?

After all is said and done, O and 9 really aren't all that different. 9 does have the feel of an album more accessible than O. Gone is the glass clinking of Cheers Darlin', the Gregorian chanting of Cold Water, and the operatic singer of Eskimo. Both albums do leave me wondering if this man's poetry is rooted in fiction or if he does indeed live the most dejected life ever...