This is my much belated report on the Damien Rice concert. First, let me just say that I was incredibly sad when I missed him the first time around, because I have dearly loved Damien since I was a junior in high school and Ty made me listen to "Delicate" in the kitchen (I think it was Thanksgiving.) That experience combined with first hearing the opera singing part of "Eskimo" at three in the morning on a bus to San Diego gave me a strong foundation with Damien.It was SUCH a fabulous show. First, if you are at all into the concert scene, you know that most concerts smell (to some extent) like pot and smelly people. This concert smelled like incense, and the stage was decorated with pretty candles. Funny.
From the first song, Sydney and I were absolutely delighted. The thing to love most about Damien Rice is his passion, and it comes through even more when you're face to face. The second song of the night was "Delicate," and we were both on the verge of swooning when it got to the last chorus ("Why'd you fill my sorrow with the words you borrowed? Why'd you sing with me at all?") So gorgeous. The first time he talked to us, he started asking about how people make money here - industry or farming? We don't know - we're all students. He told us that since we couldn't make up our minds, he'd sing us a song about not being able to make up your mind, or rather thinking you made the right decision and then finding out it wasn't at all. And then he proceeded thusly in his amazing Irish accent: "So say you were a farmer, and you decided to plant corn in your field. So you go to the seed store, and you buy . . . 200 bags of corn seed . . . for your . . . very big field. And you go and plant all of this seed, but you don't realize until a couple of weeks later that you've planted . . . I don't know, soy beans or something. Well, I had an experience like that with a girl. (laughter) I thought she was corn, but I read her label wrong."
He then proceeded to sing the amazingly bipolar "I Remember," which is really more like two songs - one a very sweet love song and the other a very bitter not love song. It was incredible, with flashing lights and a long solo at the end and rocking cello lines and wow. I didn't know where he was going to go from there, but he managed it.
My favorite discovery of the night was the song "Grey Room," which has been on my computer for awhile, unloved and unlistened to. The lyrics are in the sidebar of this blog right now - it's a gorgeously wonderful lonely song.
At the end of the concert he said, "I'm going to leave you with this one," (Sydney said "Don't leave us!") and he walked to the edge of the stage and sat down - no mic - and sang "The Blower's Daughter."
We had to work for the encore, but I must say it was the first time in a long time I'd felt good about standing up for someone at the end of a show. He came back and played some of the more rocking songs ("Coconut Skins," "Woman Like a Man," "Me, My Yoke, and I,") which I must admit I don't love, but it was pretty cool to see that they could rock. But the final encore number was "Canonball," which was just as fabulous as I could have hoped.
The only thing we were sad about was the lack of Lisa Hannigan, Damien's long-time singing partner. "9 Crimes" and "I Remember" were especially sad without her, but there was a new version of "Volcano" that kind of made up for her lack in that particular number. We did get a solo song from the cellist, Vyvianne (really) Long, which was very strange and very funny. It was called "Happy Thoughts," a "box for those days when you just need something, like say you've always fancied yourself as corn and some guy tells you you're soy beans." Let me give you an example of the lyrics: "Why do birds sing when worms can't hear a thing? Why do snakes dance why snails get fried in France?" Wow.
So yeah. Definitely amazing, and good timing, since I was about to have a nervous breakdown that day.
