Damien Rice at the Enmore Theatre, Sydney

With just an acoustic guitar for company on the large Enmore stage, support act Fionn Regan’s lyrics were clever, but his melodies seemed somewhat directionless and one-dimensional. By contrast, Damien Rice suggested within the first three songs how surprisingly varied his set was going to be. The scruffy song-writer mooched onstage to perform a sombre solo opener at the piano, before being joined by a bassist and cellist, and of course vocalist/guitarist Lisa Hannigan, for a dreamy rendition of Cannonball. Next, he thrashed the living hell out of his guitar while belting out distorted vocals that practically ripped a hole in the roof.

The simple-yet-stunning light-show of primary-coloured backdrops enhanced an already atmospheric evening, and Hannigan, in her Irish peasant’s dress and with long hair covering her face, offered a vocal that perfectly complimented Rice’s, most notably on Volcano, which built to a spine-tingling crescendo.

The sold-out crowd hung on Rice’s every movement, but were disappointed that it took him over 90 minutes to utter a single word of acknowledgement in their direction. He may well have been letting his music do the talking, but surely a quick “Hello” wasn’t too much to ask. Still, this was nothing more than a minor grumble, as the singer treated his adoring audience to almost two hours of lovingly-crafted music.

While Rice disappeared for pre-encore break, the interim was filled by Hannigan and cellist Vivienne Long delighting the crowd with quirky comedy number, Random Man On The Motorway, which brought some well-timed levity to an incredibly intense set, and showcased the wealth of talent amongst Rice’s gang of musicians.

Tracks from the latest album, 9, which perhaps don’t translate so well on record, made perfect sense when performed live, not least the sorrowful The Animals Have Gone and the venomous Rootless Tree, while old favourites like Delicate still sounded astonishingly fresh. The highlight though, was unquestionably the heart-breakingly romantic The Blower’s Daughter, which was such an affecting moment that even this cynical reviewer found himself filling with emotion.

The evening was rounded off by the vocal duo serenading us in French, and Rice delighted his fans by finally thanking them for coming, before grabbing his glass of wine and cup of tea and ambling back out of our lives in the knowledge that he had just given us an intense, atmospheric, emotional and often breath-taking evening.

Review and picture by Rob Townsend.