For the Record

Author: Melissa Marshall

These are the times that try men's souls. As if the hectic-ness of the holiday season featuring all the trimmings of fighting for parking spots, battling for the last perfectly designed Gap scarf at 20 percent off and forming think tanks using your fellow classmates in order to invent something to give to your grandmother who has everything wasn't enough; we also have to concern ourselves with endless papers and comprehensive examinations - all without the use of our brains that decided somewhere between connecting flights back to school that they would rather spend the month of December in Aruba than artic-inspired Vermont. However, you can stave off that nervous breakdown until after J-term because the birth of Jesus Christ is not the only miracle to celebrate this season - singers/songwriters Damien Rice and Joseph Arthur have decided to bless the music scene with new albums that will make you cry not out of frustration but out of appreciation for their divinely-inspired beauty.

9, the second full-length release from Ireland's darling, Damien Rice, was sent out into the world on November 14th and, surprisingly, is still somewhat under the radar. Released over three years after the critically acclaimed O, Rice's sophomore attempt clings to the same wispy vocals and haunting string arrangements that propelled O to folk fame. But it also wanders to other instruments, relying more heavily on the acoustic guitar and the piano as well as experimenting with the electric guitar as seen in, "Me, My Yoke, and I," which could be considered Rice's first rock song. In his pursuit of originality, unfortunately, he ambles onto the path of pretentiousness, moseying down a lyric lane paved with obscurity and lines that hover between laughable and embarrassing. While O provided listeners with the poignant poetry of "Volcano," "The Blower's Daughter" and "Cheers Darling," 9 delivers such infamous hooks as "The girl who does yoga/When we come over" found in "Dogs." Or perhaps the memorable refrain, "Does he drive you wild/Or just mildly free," which hopefully sounded more moving in Rice's head than on the track "Accidental Babies." The other disappointment of Damien Rice's follow-up is the absenteeism of his female counterpart Lisa Hannigan. While her lingering vocals laced O with an unforgettable melancholy, she merely bookends 9. However, Hannigan's stellar performance on "9 crimes," the first single from the new release, makes up for her silence on the rest of the album. "9 crimes," driven by a weeping cello and strained choral composition, is perhaps one of Rice's greatest artistic triumphs. And even though the rest of 9 does not quite follow in the footsteps of its opening track, the acoustic guitar-motivated "Coconut Skins," the soothingly repetitive "Me, My Yoke, and I" and the whisper to scream ballad "Elephant" all add to a solid sophomore effort. It may pale in comparison to O, but it still showcases Damien Rice's indisputable talent and established position as one of this decade's greatest songwriters.

In 1997, while Damien Rice was strumming the initial chords of an unpolished "Volcano," Joseph Arthur had just released his first full-length album, Big City Secrets. Arthur describes his music as "someone struggling to heal over experimental folk-rock," and in his September 2006 release, Nuclear Daydream, it is clear that the struggle is over but the wounds have not yet healed. "Black Lexus," one of the standout tracks off the album, is wrought with earnest emotion and nostalgia while the raw "When I Was Running out of Time" features a longing acoustic guitar and wistful lyrics in the tradition of Neil Young. And with other impressive tracks such as "Too Much to Hide" and the Dylan-esque title track, Nuclear Daydream is indicative that Joseph Arthur may be slowly meandering in the footsteps of the aforementioned Young and Dylan, as well as the legendary genius of Springsteen and Joel.

So curl up in one of the infamously cozy chairs in the library, treat yourself to a cup of Chai and let your stress slip into the tranquil tone of Rice's tortured vocals and the comforting chords of Arthur's guitar - your problems will seem less unbearable after listening to their dejected tales of heartbreak and deception set to mollifying melodies.