While no Irishman himself, LaMontagne’s sandpaper-silky croon places him squarely between Astral Weeks-era Van Morrison and Damien Rice’s unabashedly romantic holler. There’s an effortlessness to his delivery that seems wildly out of place on this debut, but it’s all good. Even if the relationships he’s singing about have long since gone sour.
Published at 12:00 AM on December 22, 2004


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