and then there's Damien Rice. I can't remember the last time I got actually got chills from just thinking about an album (not even having to listen to it) than when I recall Rice's superb debut O.

To say I was keeping tabs on the man's next movements would be putting it mildly.

Despite a need to work on better album titles, 9 ably reinforces everything that makes the Irishman one of the best exponents of venting emotions via the art of song. So like a cheeky bottle of Red, what surprised and astounded listeners first time round now becomes a tad familiar on the second sip.

It is true that 9 works on the same landscape as its predecessor but this time nearly every song inches to bust out and expand its boundaries. 'The Animals Are Gone' in the hands of anyone else would be a simple tune but, with the help of regular band mate Vyvienne Long on Cello and guest Cora Venus Lunny on Violin, Rice tastefully goes for the grand not the grandiose. It isn't the only time it occurs on this album either.

Showing that Damien Rice is more than just the man called Damien Rice, the album begins with the unlikely single '9 Crimes' and the voice of his vocal sparring partner Lisa Hannigan. Like Gram Parson utilising the talent of Emmylou Harris, a Rice album would now not be the same without the sublime Hannigan.

Once known as 'The Blower's Daughter Part 2', 'Elephant' is essentially a continuation of the story from O's most well known song, musically being the same but lyrically Rice has gone from infatuation to near confusion and despair:

Like watching Back To The Future 2 without ever seeing the original, 'Elephant' does not make sense with having absorbed 'The Blower's Daughter'.

From the depths of despair comes complete anger. Succeeding in going one better than 'I Remember' in the vitriolic stakes, 'Rootless Tree' begins subdued enough as a mid tempo number before a chorus of hate comes seemingly from nowhere and takes control.

'Rootless Tree' is apparently planned to be the first single in the U.S. My heart goes out to the man in charge of attempting to cobble together a radio friendly version of the song.

But while there are some highly charged numbers both musically and emotionally, Rice does shed some lighter moments in between. The jury is still out 'Coconut Skins' yet 'Grey Room' and 'Dogs' display a charm rarely heard from Rice. The latter especially would make a decent crack as a radio tune with its soaring bridge.

Ending with another Damien/Lisa duet, 'Sleep, Don't Weep' is a gentle and hopeful send off for a record filled with more raw emotions. What this bodes for Rice's musical future is anyone's guess. For now though (and a long time to come), 9 has plenty still to reveal.