Introspective, depressed songwriting seems to be a big hit in the U.K., with Coldplay and Radiohead being the most obvious examples. More in the vein of emergent British voice of 2000 David Gray comes Damien Rice, whose debut album O has already gone double platinum in his home Ireland. O was released stateside this past summer with results. Though the radio has pretty much shut its doors to all male songwriters whose names don’t start with John and end with Mayer, Damien Rice has received rave reviews and regular play on MTV2. And rightfully so: despite an unappealing decadence in some places, O packs a similar punch to Gray’s breakthrough White Ladder in its fragile, somber beauty.

The album opens with the song “Delicate,” which is a pretty good summation of Rice’s musical style. He starts with a laid-back, Jack Johnson-style intro, but then heads into a violin-bolstered chorus, singing “Why d’you sing hallelujah/ if it means nothing to ya,” as if he were conjuring up Jeff Buckley’s ghost. His voice is a whispering, intimate tenor, but Rice uses dynamics to his advantage, bringing out the clarity of his voice at powerful moments.

“Volcano,” the second song, is more menacing and not as pretty as others on the album. It is a good attempt at diversity, but it could not help but remind me of that sickening Incubus song that was played to death on the radio. A real gem comes with track three, “The Blower’s Daughter,” a dramatic ballad that repeats the line “I can’t take my eyes off of you” over a cello that will give you goose bumps. On certain verses, Rice’s voice evokes the intensity of Thom Yorke as he emits desperate, note-ending sighs. Backing vocals by Lisa Hannigan give this and almost all of O an ethereal and sad mood.

“The Blower’s Daughter” runs directly into the song that most Americans are likely to have heard, “Cannonball.” This track has a more rolling, uplifting melody, although the song is still depressing as hell. In most of these songs, Rice expresses the sadness and heartbreak that come out of love, and “Cannonball” captures this the best. Rice tends to get a little Adam Duritz-y at the end, but it ends up balancing well with the understatement of the song’s beginning. O feels very intimate, and at times Rice is almost whispering. This effect only makes the experience of the album more moving.

“Older Chests” and “Amie” (pronounced Amy, not the French word for friend) continue the theme of love-induced depression. The former is a catchy melody reminiscent of one of the warmer melodies of frequent Mac visitor Denison Witmer. The lyrics will not knock you out: “Some things in life may change/ and some things/ they stay the same.” But it is the delivery coupled with swelling strings that makes them seem profound. “Amie” has so many that it seems like some delicate love proclamation from a Broadway musical.

“Cheers Darlin’” sounds very much like a dark Travis tune (in the vein of “Blue Flashing Light”), and is basically the only angry song on O. Rice is great at using his voice to express himself, and the emotions come out crystal-clear. “Cheers Darlin’” is the drunken cabaret song Rice wants terribly to sing to his lady love (who, alas, does not love him). “What am I, darlin’?” he half whispers/ half sings while instruments of all sorts groan and stretch.

Despair is the theme on the soulful “Cold Water” which, along with “I Remember,” features Lisa Hannigan prominently on vocals. “Cold Water” also features some creepy backing vocals that sound like Gregorian chants, inexplicably. It ends this way, and is guaranteed to scare the shit out of you if you are alone. “I Remember” is split between Hannigan and Rice on lead vocals, and the Hannigan half sounds a lot like a traditional Irish folk song. Unfortunately, Rice turns it into a wailing desperation-fest without which the song would be much better off.

“Eskimo” is the last song on O, and it is a sweeping, beautiful ballad until a really silly opera sample comes on, displaying Rice’s tendency to mess with things that are fine by themselves. This and other indulgences, however annoying they are, cannot really disrupt the beauty of the album, which gives us a glimpse of a promising young singer-songwriter who, if he leaves his pretensions at the door, can make many beautiful records in years to come.