Damien Rice - My Favourite Faded Fantasy (2014) MP3VBR Beolab1700

Damien Rice - My Favourite Faded Fantasy (2014) MP3VBR Beolab1700







---------------------------------------------------------------------

Damien Rice - My Favourite Faded Fantasy

---------------------------------------------------------------------



Artist...............: Damien Rice

Album................: My Favourite Faded Fantasy

Genre................: Indie

Source...............: CD

Year.................: 2014

Ripper...............: EAC (Secure mode) / LAME 3.92 & Asus CD-S520

Codec................: LAME 3.98

Version..............: MPEG 1 Layer III

Quality..............: Extreme, (avg. bitrate: 219kbps)

Channels.............: Joint Stereo / 44100 hz

Tags.................: ID3 v1.1, ID3 v2.3

Information..........:



Posted by............: Beolab1700 on 30/10/2014



---------------------------------------------------------------------

Tracklisting

---------------------------------------------------------------------



1. Damien Rice - Long Long Way [06:23]

2. Damien Rice - Colour Me In [05:18]

3. Damien Rice - I Don't Want to Change You [05:26]

4. Damien Rice - The Greatest Bastard [05:04]

5. Damien Rice - The Box [04:27]

6. Damien Rice - Trusty and True [08:09]

7. Damien Rice - It Takes a Lot to Know a Man [09:32]

8. Damien Rice - My Favourite Faded Fantasy [06:12]



Playing Time.........: 50:34

Total Size...........: 80.66 MB



---------------------------------------------------------------------



“It takes a lot to know a man“, admits/warns Damien Rice as he allows his troubles to stretch grandly before him. A wonder they do not consume him as they twist across spiky terrain that offers no place to hide. The trials and tribulations of the worldweary troubadour are nothing new, but in Rice’s rather elusive case, there’s much to address after many years in the wilderness. Rumours of disappearance and reports of dishevelment have swirled since he quietly faded into the background not long after 2006’s 9 came and went. Talk of cults and sightings in far-flung rustic locales joined the conversation, the music falling to one side. The book threatened to close on Rice, cementing an Achilles figure who peaked too soon.



To know him, to attempt to tap into his bruised frequencies, requires a healthy amount of emotional scarring on the part of those willing to listen. Heartbreak suffered and, importantly, inflicted upon another. It’s tempting to read much of My Favourite Faded Fantasy as a perhaps-destined-to-be-unanswered letter to ex-bandmate and girlfriend Lisa Hannigan, the Great Lost that continues to haunt Rice. Her voice, a delicate yet dangerous thing, wove deep through his previous fabric. That thread is absent here but so much of Hannigan remains. The very idea of her is present in every second. The need for atonement. That intoxicating feeling, as Rice puts it on his title track, of “what it all could be…“. He draws power from that line and many others. The soul is laid bare, the frailties and flaws violently exposed.



Self-preservation emerges. Odd, given just how willing Rice is to turn his knives inward. His implements are dressed up in heaven-sent strings and searching melodies but they cut no less deep. ‘My Favourite Faded Fantasy’ paints the object of his desires as “my poison, my cross, my razor blade“. It eventually rises only to crash down as our leading man furiously confesses. Speaking of fury, ‘The Greatest Bastard’ is the kind of song that Ed Sheeran – who credits Rice as a key inspiration – may well indeed write some day. Presently, he lacks the unflinching commitment to self-sabotage that Rice possesses in abundance and the nuance required to make it sing. Everything sings here, no matter how dark the matter at hand. At five minutes and five seconds, ‘The Greatest Bastard’ is the shortest of these eight songs, but it flows like a novella.



‘I Don’t Want To Change You’, though only a scattering of seconds longer, is a tome unto itself. One is wary of projecting too much here, but, though a sincere ‘I fucked up, I’m sorry, I love you’ sentiment is to the fore, a deep sense of self-actualisation and the acceptance of our own failings comes to light. Even the title betrays a certain selfishness, hinting at a sliver of control. Old ghosts are always capable of bringing new regrets but the battle is there to be fought and Rice claims his own ground quite splendidly. On the surface, things are so matter-of-fact and warmly inviting that Alexis Petridis is spot-on when he notes in his tricky Guardian chat with Rice that the song is a perfect fit for a mawkish X Factor ‘interpretation’. You’d hope such an exceptional statement won’t be sullied by the circus.



---------------------------------------------------------------------