Review: C Duncan – ‘Architect’


architect




Every so often an album is released which leads you saying to yourself, “I wonder how this was made?”.

Not because of the obvious – notes were sung, chords were strummed and drums were hit – but because its scope and intricacy are so imaginative and fascinating.

Fascinating is a word that sounds, in this twenty first century, a lot more affected and prissy than it used to, however it’s an adjective which sits comfortably with ‘Architect‘s timeless, charming aesthetic and in Christopher Duncan we appear to have unearthed a writer/composer of rare talent.

The son of classical musicians, his debut album was built in a Glasgow flat using a painstaking process of recording each instrument at a time to evolve the music naturally like a stalactite, allowing for his singular vision to be maintained across the process.

Those of you put off by the thought of granting time to yet another bedroom auteur can think again; ‘Architect’ feels like it was assembled by a glamorous ensemble cast of thousands. Opener ‘Say‘, for example, is equally flecked with the chastened sadness of Laurel Canyon’s troubadours as the hush of Nick Drake, or Robin Pecknold‘s reedy earnestness.

Concessions to either craft, or the apparent limitations of the recording set up, are equally lost in Duncan’s remarkable playing. On ‘For‘ he conveys the impression of playing host to a barber’s shop quartet on vocals, whilst its insistent, metronomically plucked guitar is counterpointed by one of the few uses of whistling in song to a positive effect.

Looking more closely, the real virtue of Duncan’s music is the delicate weaving of pop throughout ‘Architect’s dozen chapters. Having graduated from The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, he could perhaps have been forgiven for wanting to centre his work around virtuosity and the dogmatic structures familiar to dusty lecturers. Instead, work like ‘Silence and Air‘ and ‘New Water‘ hum with a readiness to welcome all comers.

Perhaps a by-product of naiveté, this accessibility shouldn’t however be perceived as marking everything out as a soft touch. ‘Garden‘, for instance, romps along at a fine lick, propulsively bipped with a single note keyboard riff and occasional garage solos. Its successor ‘Here To There‘ is a step even further, almost post-punk in attitude, while the lyrical travelogue is an obtuse journey at best.

So back to the question of ‘Architect’s conception then. Usually, discovery of how a thing is made quietens human curiosity, or at least dampens it. That one person built up this noise like a craftsman from a bygone age merely adds however to its unwritten invitation to admire the curves and grace even more. Appropriately the jazzy, Bacharach tones of closing track ‘I’ll Be Gone By Winter‘ are the only ones marked by any kind of obvious desire for conformity, Duncan’s Snowbird homage more Vegas than Sauciehall Street in January. It’s a stylish, un-ironic conclusion to a record which is constantly changing shades.



Its producer is an architect for sure, one blessed with flair and a rare ear for the gorgeously sublime.

(Andy Peterson)


Learn More