There is something decidedly captivating about a man with a guitar. Now, make that man Irish and the guitar acoustic and he instantly becomes irresistible.

So goes the story with singer/songwriter Damien Rice.

After releasing the smash single “The Blower’s Daughter” in Ireland in 2001, Rice quickly became a hot commodity in Irish music.

A year later, his full length album, O, wreaked havoc on audiences in the U.K.

It took yet another year for the album to be released stateside to expectant fans who had heard Rice’s songs on the Web.

O became one of the highest regarded debut albums of the year for its raw emotion and delicate arrangements.

The ethereal vocals of collaborator Lisa Hannigan contributed largely to the success of the album.

After extensive touring, Rice set to writing his next album.

While listeners had been given a few insights into the newest release on his summer tour with Fiona Apple, few knew what to expect.

The highly anticipated sophomore disc, simply titled 9 hit stores last fall.

Critics and audiences alike reacted in two distinct ways.

Either they loved it or hated it.

The undiluted lyricism of Rice’s debut record had captivated listeners, but the new batch of songs proved to be too raw for some.

Many were disappointed that the songs were heavier and darker, with many songs walking a fine line between artistic angst and plain distastefulness.

Additionally, Lisa Hannigan lent her coveted vocals to only one track, as his website stated that their professional relationship “had run its course,” much to the despair of concertgoers.

However, despite the onslaught of negative reviews, Rice’s album still sold like hotcakes.

The subsequent U.S. tour also proved Rice’s sustained popularity as he sold out many venues.

At Saturday’s show at the Paramount Theater, Rice packed the house.

With no opening band, Rice took to the stage in one of the most eclectic live performances I have ever witnessed.

Tealight candles littered the stage as tiny lights dangled overhead, creating the atmosphere of a small seedy piano bar.

Alternating between his sprawling grand piano and the main mic, Rice manned the stage with such a relaxed air that one felt as though he was watching a private rehearsal.

The extensive two-hour set consisted largely of unreleased tracks and B-sides.

While such a selection would normally thwart the audience, it somehow enthralled it.

Listeners remained on the edge of their seats as Rice threw them into a storm of turbulent guitars and screaming, distorted vocals, then pulled them out, exhausted, to soothe them with a cello infused acoustic ballad.

Some songs brought audience members to tears while others induced head banging.

The band followed Rice’s manic twists and turns without missing a beat.

When Rice decided to perform requests made by two bellowing concert goers, the band effortlessly complied.

The result was an oddly mesmerizing mix between a garage band jam session and a coffee shop performance.

Rice’s humorous but slightly crass anecdotes between songs also created an act reminiscent of an “MTV Unplugged” episode.

Overall, the show was incredibly entertaining, as Rice was truly a fascinating performer to behold.

Maybe it’s just that Americans tend to love musicians from across the pond, but Damien Rice is something different.

He somehow manages to be uniquely charming and offensive, tender and tormented, refined and raw, all at once.

The Los Angeles Times said it best when describing Rice as “nothing short of a complete package of art, personality and presence.”