Damien Rice – Live in Manchester, 2007

Elly Roberts reviews

Damien Riceat ENA, ManchesterThursday 11 October, 2007


9:
O:
B-Sides:

  • Rating: 10/10+
  • He busked. He recorded. He conquered.

    That’s the brief history of 34-year-old Irishman Damien Rice.

    For a man who writes frighteningly intimate songs, it was an odd venue forhis new UK tour. Maybe supply and demand dictated, though did confess tohating arenas, because he couldn’t see us. The big question was, would thereclusive Irishman adapt to an 8,000 crowd? Would it be an ‘O’ dear or a justa ‘9’. It was a perfect 10!


    For the next two hours he plunderd his back-catalogue with songs from bothalbums, and lesser known.

    Giving serious thought to his set (plenty of candles and joss sticks waftingthe stage front), he beefed things up when it mattered, shifting from penchant ‘mello-chello’ ballads – on both piano and guitar – to rock excursions thatrecalled his early rock days, it was triumphant night.

    Just like his albums, it was a slow start – Rice and guitar only and not muchsaid during the first few songs, that included Then Go, as his bandincreased to four on the divine Older Chests and What I Am To Youwith sublime cello hitting the heart strings, as it does on many of his sadsongs.


    Gradually his confidence grew. He engaged more and more, showing a sharp wit,in contrast with his melancholic musical template, drawing roars of laughterto the very end, which was, by any standard, unusually spectacular. From thenon, he teased us, building his set to many highs and lows.

    Dipping into 9 he played the, almost, uplifting last single Dogs.The sombre but achingly beautiful Amie drew us in, as the sweeping cello rangaround the cavernous arena, then on piano for non-album single Unplayed Pianowith smoke and film footage rolling we got a tear-jerking tribute to Burmesedemocracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi.


    Mid-way, he asked if we wanted a fast song, for a change. Somebody, as they do,shouted “La Bamba!”… so we got La Bamba, sung in Spanish toroars of laughter and cheers, followed by, “A few years ago I’d have doneyour wedding do for £300. Missed out there didn’t yah?”

    Cries for The Blower’s Daughter were skilfully dismissed, though wewouldn’t be deprived. Finally the rock-blast struck, as lights went to overdrivefor a stunning crescendo on stirring I Remember. Then came the masterstroke.Moving away from the mic, and another step forward, he sang Cannonballfront stage in tangable silence under the spotlight. We soon twigged we wereto join in, and we did a stunning move.


    Running out of time, fears grew that he might not give us what we all wantedthe biggie – The Blower’s Daughter… predictably it was a joyousexperience for us all, and a kind of relief of sorts when it came.

    With band gone, for the finale, Rice turned storyteller and comedian, with anacted out lead-in for Cheers Darling, throwing himself completely intothe roll of a drunk, sinking four glasses of red.

    A standing ovation resulted in a wave, a bow, “Goodbye”, and he was gone.

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