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One of the surprise successes of 2003, Irish troubadour Damien Rice connected with audiences by making direct pleas from the heart. The ten tracks included here on his debut full length are nearly unadorned. Rice’s voice is front and center, evoking fellow travelers David Gray and the Frames’ Glen Hansard, in his "whisper to a croak" delivery and the wandering restless spirit of his lyrics. Sure, he adds a female chorus here (“The Blower’s Daughter”) and a spare accompaniment of strings everywhere, but the focus always reverts to Rice’s minimal guitar and voice. He's is a young, undeterred romantic, falling in love without shame or reticence, and this openness of spirit is refreshing, bringing out a springtime of opportunity in the melodies. Rice may sing “Love taught me to lie,” during “Cannonball” but he’s closer to the acoustic reverie of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks than the hard-bitten politics of a hard rocker or even an aged, world-weary jazz singer. Contrary to Oscar Wilde, youth is not always wasted on the young.