A friend first introduced me to Damien Rice in the winter of 2001. We were sitting in her car somewhere in Bray, when she turned and said "wait 'til you hear this, it's beautiful." It was The Blower's Daughter. She then said, "he's the best thing since The Frames." What struck me that night was how Rice's whining repetition (is it a desire to drive a point home, or just lyrical laziness?) instilled a wistful look on said friend's face. Rice's debut 'O' catered for lonely souls who sit in their bedsits, swaddled in oversized knitwear, staring at a snapshot of happier times. Hannigan's truly beautiful strains which accompany the opening bars of '9 Crimes' momentarily lull you into the illusion that this album might be yet another invite to womb wallow, however - '9' caters more for those in the height of severely over animated despair. 'Me, My Yoke and I' is all disgruntled guitars and wailing vocals, which spiral upwards to the point of hilarity - akin to the nervous titter one gets from bearing witness to a public hissy fit. 'Rootless Tree' starts off as an amiable fair until the trite four letter chorus, which personally invoked a visual montage of Samantha Morton shouting at her onscreen boyfriend in a leaf strewn park, followed by her running home where she breaks down before a rain stained window pane. 'Elephant' opens with the line "This has got to die, this has got to stop." Enough said there. Basically, '9' is fuelled by quivering vocal and guitar combos, culminating in a crescendo of impassioned caterwauling/strings for a few bars, then dissipating into some spent, near incoherent, whimpering. The thing that sets Rice apart from the rest of the "tortured Irish" is Hannigan, yet he doesn't utilise her beyond the odd murmured accompaniment. In saying that, the album isn't without it's highpoints; 'Dogs' is beautifully warm, 'Coconut Skins' is a jovial musical affair (complete with an unfortunate degradation into "la, la, la" territory), and the production on 'The Animals Were Gone' is borderline sublime. Rice's lyrics are not without their highpoints either; 'Accidental Babies' will ring true for a lot of people. There is so much more to be said, but the 15 minute electronic loop instrumental (akin to the sound of a finger rimming a wet glass) at the end of 'Sleep Don't Weep' will speak for itself.

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