Cri De Coeur
In 2000 he was a young musician with nothing to tie him down. The intervening decade was a remarkable one for Damien Rice, who scaled the heights with his wonderful debut album, released in 2002, and simply titled O. But far more important to him than all of that is the fact that he loved, and then lost, an extraordinary woman by the name of Lisa Hannigan.
Olaf Tyaransen, 04 Mar 2010
Here we are, ten years after, and looking back. The end of the 20th century brought some serious changes to Damien Rice’s life. As for the ensuing decade: towards the conclusion of this rare and unexpectedly confessional interview, Hot Press asks the reluctant star what has been his personal high point of the Noughties.
The last ten years has seen the Kildare singer-songwriter selling truckloads of albums, repeatedly touring the globe, hearing his songs soundtrack hit movies, being romantically linked with an A-list Hollywood actress, and performing with the likes of Christy Moore and Leonard Cohen (“a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, gracious, eloquent man”). You’d think that Rice must be spoilt for choice of momentous moments. But he doesn’t hesitate before answering: “Meeting Lisa Hannigan.”
The lowest point?
He smiles, wistfully: “Lisa Hannigan not wanting to talk to me anymore.”
And what are his hopes and ambitions for the coming decade?
Rice closes his eyes and thinks for a moment, before answering softly: “Just to be kind.” He shrugs his shoulders: “I mean, I’m pretty clear at this point, looking back, that I was a complete asshole on many occasions. Like, very clear.”
Rewind ninety minutes or so. Rice walks into the bar of a Dublin city-centre hotel to do his first proper interview in almost three years. There’s absolutely no swagger about the man. With his shock of unkempt hair, patchwork shirt and holey sweater, the lightly bearded 35-year-old (he’ll turn 36 in a few days) looks more like an impoverished eco-warrior than an internationally famous and possibly even wealthy musician.
He seems in good form, greeting publicist Dan Oggly with a hug and your correspondent with a firm and friendly handshake. “We met in Manhattan a few years ago,” I remind him. “Yeah, I remember,” he says. “Backstage in Joe’s Pub.”
Deciding that the bar is too noisy for recording purposes, we walk to the nearby Central Hotel. Along the way, Rice enthuses about a global warming lecture he recently attended. Ten minutes later, we’re ensconced in a quiet and dimly lit room off the Central’s upstairs Library Bar. The singer sips from a glass of still water and tells Oggly that there’s no need to wait for him. “This could take a little while,” he says.
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