http://www.boston.com/ae/music/articles/2003/09/15/rices_subtleties_lost_in_overheated_emotion/
Rice's subtleties lost in overheated emotion
By Jonathan Perry, Globe Correspondent, 9/15/2003
Damien Rice
With Pedestrian
At: the Paradise, Saturday night
These days, it seems as though every other male singer-songwriter with something sensitive to say wants to be Jeff Buckley or Radiohead's Thom Yorke, only less obtuse. But that kind of histrionic sincerity is difficult to pull off, and even the most skilled new artists who try it can veer toward a deadly earnestness that becomes overbearing and precious. The heavily hyped Irish export Damien Rice is one such artist.
Buoyed by the critical buzz and swelling stateside success of his debut album, "O," which was released in Europe last year and is now a Top 10 disc on the Billboard "Top Heatseekers" chart, Rice has joined the ranks of other sensitive good guys such as John Mayer, David Gray, and Pete Yorn whose collective tremble has translated into millions of record sales. Rice is not nearly as
bland a songwriter as those artists, but during his two-hour, sold-out show at the Paradise on Saturday night, the subtlety of his poetic touch with a phrase or a feeling was often undermined by his penchant for overly emotive vocal gymnastics. Still, the gregarious Rice at least had the self-awareness to poke fun at himself in song at one point, describing himself as a "stormy little singer" in a jesting song called "Childish." Backed by a strong, versatile band consisting of Vyvienne Long on cello, Shane Fitzsimons on bass, and a drummer who goes by the single name Tomo, Rice confined himself to an amplified acoustic guitar that he tweaked with an array of electronic effects.
The band shaded the gossamer textures of set opener "The Blower's Daughter" with a hint of cello and tinge of percussion, then shifted forcefully into the seething ferment of "Volcano," painting its melody with bold, bright colors and working a muscular, insistent groove. Through it all, Rice resembled the kid brother of Dave Matthews gliding above a Hothouse Flowers din.
There were some subtle, striking moments that played to Rice's strengths as a writer, most notably a graceful, delicate reading of "Amie," whose romantic plea sounded like a meditation on cosmic change. "Older Chests," which immediately followed, held the mood captive with its finely spun lyrics about time and generations unfurling. "Older gents sit on the fence with a cap in hand, looking grand, they watch their city change," Rice sang in a gauzy voice that kept dissipating into the mystic.
Other attempts at heartfelt outpourings were not as gratifying. The matchbox twenty-esque schmaltz of "Cannonball," which began the encore, sounded ripe for a sorority mixer or a slow dance at a high school prom. A cloying "Eskimo" brought back cringe-worthy memories of a Crash Test Dummies singalong. The absence of vocalist Lisa Hannigan, who, Rice explained, was sitting out most of this tour because of "a previous obligation," actually made for one of the evening's more entertaining moments. Rice was ready to tackle Hannigan's lead vocal on "I Remember" before an audience member named Keira volunteered for the duties and was invited to join Rice onstage. With the exception of a flubbed verse (certainly understandable under the circumstances), Keira acquitted herself admirably. As did Rice and his band when they invited openers Pedestrian onstage for an inspired encore cover of Prince's "When Doves Cry" that segued into a section of Led Zeppelin's proto-power ballad "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You." The song built to a dense, furious climax before Rice made good on Zep's promise and said farewell.
? Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.