robglazebrook.com

So I have decided that, as of today, I am a fan of Damien Rice. Why, asks thou? Well, I’ve loved “The Blower’s Daughter” for a really long time now. So long, in fact, that I’ve been convinced it must be a cover of some older song, cause I could’ve sworn I’ve liked this song since high school. I’ve even debated this fact with people, along the lines of:

“Who sung The Blower’s Daughter?”
“Umm… Damien Rice, I think.”
“No no… I mean the original singer.”
“I think he was the original singer.”
“Yeah, well I think you’re stupid.”

But now I’m starting to think that I must have been wrong. Anyways, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It turns out, Mr. Rice also sings “9 Crimes,” also known as this song here (it’s gorgeous… you should listen). I didn’t discover that he was said singer until yesterday afternoon, but after that, I had some serious self reflection to do.

I mean, his music is lovely in a near-folky sort of way (edit: turns out he’s self-classified as a folk singer. Go figure). His timing is superb. His voice is simultaneously mournful and hopeful. His lyrics are just mysterious enough for me not to know exactly what he’s talking about, but just clear enough that I’m pretty sure I get the idea.

But, you know… he’s Damien Rice. And I’m pretty sure liking him makes me gay. So to compromise, I think I’ll just be a closet Damien Rice fan: I’ll listen to his music in private, and possibly discuss the beauty of his lyrics with The Ladies, but he’s not exactly coming out on Karaoke Night at the Rusty Cowboy Pub or anything. And nobody will be any the wiser.

Well, except for you persons, of course. But I trust you explicitly. And you can tell it’s explicit trust because I just said it. Implicit trust would have gone without saying.