"We might kiss, when we are alone", heard a tune of an acoustic in the dark coming towards the stage. I held my wine up, sang to myself "When nobody's watching, we might take it home" with a cheeky grin thinking to myself "how many times have I listened to this for what it sounds and not for what it means". There, a two hour acoustic session started off with "Delicate" with one single spot light aiming an equal distance from the sides of the stage, a person who looked like a torn 'faded' memory of your younger age, looking back at you whispering "I got your back, back then". Damien Rice was his name.
Between the performance, Rice would ask a question or two, now and then. He would tell us about a night he spent with a women he met, and ended up sleeping on her guest bed by himself and starts singing "Amie - The story of O".Â
The whole theatre is in silence, I hear âdonât take another ten years to come back manâ someone yells out of nowhere. Somewhere between the audience, I could hear herself desperately, âoh my godâ in a very keen way.
This was the perfect wine and mind game, between the artist and the audience, my wine and his mind. His art is very direct, honest, âstory tellingâ and planetary treasure, sings from his soul direct into ours someway painfully perfect. This guy is for me what Bob Dylan was for probably many people, the way he works with words is so meaningful.
Assuming it a canvas, the painting is halfway through the sunset. The part of the audience is what it was missing. Right before I yell out "Volcano!", there he starts "Don't hold yourself like that, You'll hurt your knees" along with the audience. Damien is just the embodiment of pure musicianship and what it means to be a epitome of a true musician.ï»ż
Attend and support the Art!