Under a looming whalebone set piece at Studio TD, Searows delivered a tender and restrained performance on his Death In The Business of Whaling tour.
Alec Duckart’s career first gained traction on Tik Tok popularity, leading to the release of his debut album, Guard Dog, a diaristic reflection on hurtful relationships and childhood nostalgia. The following year he became the first artist signed to Matt Maltese’s label, Last Recordings On Earth. Sophomore album Death In The Business of Whaling was well-received by fans, but one gets the sense he is still grappling with his rising popularity.
His set is tightly structured around the album release. Every track makes an appearance. Duckart opens with Belly of the Whale before launching into Kill What You Eat and Photograph of a Cyclone. His vocal performance — often compared to Phoebe Bridgers — is at once supple and melancholic. He maintains remarkable control and clarity, whether he’s dislodging an emotion or building into a solid belt. Duckart also revisits earlier releases, with House Song getting some of the loudest cheers.
Between songs, Duckart reveals himself to be introverted and awkward. He thanks the quiet audience several times in a subdued tone. For the length of the set he stays planted before the mic stand. All that moves is the emotion pouring out of him.
Most of his songs dwell in haunting memories and emotional vulnerability, but their similarities sometimes flatten into uniformity. His earlier tracks stand out in the set for their warmer composition. “This one’s a bit of a rocker,” he jokes before Dearly Missed, telling the audience to make the most of it because “there’s not many of those.” Although the drums come down heavier and the volume picks up, Duckart performs with restraint, staying planted at the front of the stage. What’s missing is the catharsis.
But perhaps it is all by design; at the end of the night, I get the sense that nothing has been revealed; no quirk of personality to puncture the gloom, no anecdotes to contextualize the songs. Duckart’s confessionals — about mental anguish, loneliness, vulnerability, knowing you have hurt someone you love — remain intimately his.
Support came from Jordan Patterson
Review — Irene Wang
Photos — Steve Gerrard
