Some guys are so shy and quiet

By RUSSELL BAILLIE


Right, for anybody feeling a little rock-fatigued out what with all those outdoor summer shows, here's a bunch of quiet, shy, single blokes - singer-songwriters of various vintages, voltages and angles.

So quiet and shy, that some of these albums have been kicking about the stereo since before New Year, their music a bit wintry to get much airplay, let alone a review.

Wondrous what a cold southerly snap will do for critical faculties.

If there's an album among this bunch that is likely to last until spring at least it's Irishman Damien Rice's debut O (wonder if he was Scottish he would have called it "Mc"?), an elegant, intimate set which suggests he's neither the next David Gray nor just another miserable busker without any decent tunes.

He's acoustic guitar powered and folk influenced with occasional veers across the Atlantic into alt-country territory.

But it comes delivered with lateral-minded arrangements - strings, woodwinds, chanting and on the three-part epic finale Eskimo a shrieking opera singer - as well as Rice's supine voice, and intriguing lyrics telling tales of heartbreak and, yes, woe.

It can turn the melancholy knob up a little much, especially on the likes of Amie. But Rice's debut easily rises above the shy-guy genre.

The extravagantly titled The Shadows of Birds Flying Fall Slowly Down the Tall Buildings is, by my count, Auckland singer-songwriter Paul McLaney's fifth album, either under his own name or that of his group Gramsci.

And unlike 2002's second Gramsci album, Object, which swamped the songs in its high-concept production, this London-recorded solo acoustic set reminds that McLaney has possibly one of the most gorgeous voices in New Zealand rock.

Fortunately, that vocal delivery and McLaney's deft, spacious acoustic playing is enough to power - quietly- this set of nine songs.

There's not much variation in pace, its lights-down mood or approach.

However, occasionally McLaney veers into the occasional pensive fretboard excursion.

The likes of Everything and A Child on the Carousel possess what, if this was amplified, would be rousing choruses. But its sheer understatement makes The Shadow ... quietly compelling. And it's only his first album this year, with a new Gramsci set due out in April.

The last time through Australian singer-songwriter Alex Lloyd scored a hit with Amazing from his second album, Watching Angels Mend.

It's hard to be convinced that his third, Distant Light, has a similar break-out track among its plush arrangements though the exuberant chorus of 1000 Miles could repeat the trick.

Otherwise, Lloyd here seems pretty much the well-crafted sum of his influences, whether it's R.E.M. (opener Hello The End), or the brothers Finn (quite a lot of the rest of the album). Likeable but not quite memorable.

As that studio moniker suggests, The Wisdom of Harry is a leap into the idiosyncratic.

Torch Division is the third album by Pete Astor, a man with a past in Britpop precursors the Weather Prophets but who now prefers music that's part junk-shop electronica, part wistful lo-fi Velvet Underground pop of wry - and sci-fi - lyrics.

Which means parts of Torch Division can recall the rustic charms of the likes of Sparklehorse, Tom Waits (especially on Joe the Astronaut) and even our very own Chris Knox (when he's in a good mood).

With Astor's matter-of-fact delivery, unfussy backings, and storybook lyrics, it's an album of childish charm. A few songs sound too much like home-studio works-in-progress but largely Torch Division is a fine advertisement for that cult following to sign up a few more members.

Damien Rice: O

(Herald rating: * * * *)

Label: Warner



Paul McLaney: The Shadows of Birds Flying Fall Slowly Down the Tall Buildings

(Herald rating: * * * *)

Label: BMG



Alex Lloyd: Distant Light

(Herald rating: * * *)

Label: Capitol



The Wisdom Of Harry: Torch Division

(Herald rating: * * *)

Label: Matador