{"id":442324,"date":"2026-01-28T06:15:08","date_gmt":"2026-01-28T06:15:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/442324\/"},"modified":"2026-01-28T06:15:08","modified_gmt":"2026-01-28T06:15:08","slug":"searows-death-in-the-business-of-whaling-album-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/442324\/","title":{"rendered":"Searows: Death in the Business of Whaling Album Review"},"content":{"rendered":"

Portland, Oregon singer-songwriter Alec Duckart, who performs as Searows, broke through at the height of the post-Boygenius<\/a> singer-songwriter wave: First, charming TikTok followers compared his voice to Phoebe Bridgers<\/a>\u2019; then, he earned support slots for Gracie Abrams<\/a> and Ethel Cain;<\/a> eventually, his single \u201cHouse Song\u201d racked up 80 million Spotify plays. But Duckart sets himself apart from his brooding contemporaries with sheer intensity, never diffusing vulnerable moments with a quip or an ironically upbeat chorus. He saves his songs from entering overwrought coming-of-age angst territory with sharp writing; it helps that, a former theater kid, he\u2019s got deft control of his voice, often layering his vocals into tense, multi-part suspended harmonies.<\/p>\n

Duckart\u2019s second album, Death in the Business of Whaling, further develops his creative identity by adding a little mystery, opting for abstract, free-associative musings over straightforwardly confessional songwriting. Still, the same existential discomfort persists: \u201cIt\u2019s delusion, but it\u2019s peaceful\/That this body is not your own,\u201d he sings on \u201cDirt.\u201d The characters that populate Death in the Business of Whaling fail to live up to others\u2019 expectations, and often feel fundamentally damaged: Across several songs, Duckart\u2019s narrators are in the \u201cbelly of the whale,\u201d they\u2019re on \u201ca sinking boat,\u201d they\u2019re \u201clike an insect.\u201d These songs inhabit a complex emotional middle ground, more likely to sit with difficult feelings than wallow or reach an optimistic conclusion. On \u201cJunie,\u201d the narrator\u2014possibly a younger Duckart<\/a>\u2014admits to a high school guidance counselor he feels beyond repair: \u201cThere is nothing else left to decide\/Have you learned nothing from the pain in your side?\u201d As the song expands outward, the relationship between counselor and student grows complex: The song seemingly swaps point-of-view, as Duckart sings, \u201cI was the safeguard\/but you fell too hard\u201d\u2014but by the end, it\u2019s hard to tell who\u2019s saying \u201cI can fix it, but it won\u2019t hurt you less\u201d to whom. On \u201cIn Violet,\u201d the narrator is concerned about the power he wields over someone who idealized him: \u201cI was a God and I\u2019m not sure that you bought it,\u201d he sings, \u201cI\u2019m scared of the thought\/That I\u2019m selling you on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

No score yet, be the first to add.<\/p>\n

Recorded with producer Trevor Spencer, who has worked with Beach House<\/a>, Death in the Business of Whaling is Duckart\u2019s first release made with a full band, though that adjustment doesn\u2019t massively change what works about his music. If anything, the record subtly repositions Duckart as slowcore: Spencer drowns Duckart\u2019s voice in a metallic, resonant reverb, so he\u2019s mixed both at the front and just out of reach. Call Duckart the son of Daughter<\/a>; a formative love of the atmospheric folk band is all over Duckart\u2019s catalog, and Daughter drummer Remi Aguilella even contributes his tom-heavy style to the dreamy climax of \u201cHunter.\u201d (\u201cHunter\u201d also contains the line, \u201cI\u2019m a killer with a heart on fire,\u201d the album\u2019s one outright lapse into the melodrama that Duckart usually avoids.) Mostly, these arrangements are tasteful\u2014so much so that even subtle choices, like an electric instead of an acoustic (\u201cHunter\u201d) or a harmonica outro (\u201cDirt\u201d), make a noticeable difference.<\/p>\n

As yet another yearning folk musician, Duckart faces an uphill battle: The market is oversaturated with similar plaintive performers, and it might be just as easy for some people to write him off. So it\u2019s thrilling when, on \u201cDearly Missed,\u201d the album\u2019s epic centerpiece, he shows he\u2019s capable of throwing away that formula altogether. It\u2019s a surprisingly murky song about someone who refuses to face accountability. Duckart\u2019s narrator is biting toward the subject (\u201cYou probably grew up being dishonest\/What else could you do though\/It was all you knew\u201d). Towards the song\u2019s end, over mounting tension, Duckart lets the plot swerve: \u201cBy some sort of coincidence,\u201d he narrates, his gentle delivery throwing the coincidence into question, \u201cHe drove his car off of the river bridge.\u201d After this startling detail, Duckart finally lets loose, belting for what feels like the first time in his entire catalogue. His voice sounds uncharacteristically harsh; the lo-fi mix isn\u2019t far from recent shoegaze bands like Knifeplay<\/a>, but the song is still rooted in folk storytelling. This time, he evokes no obvious comparison.<\/p>\n

\"Searows:<\/a><\/p>\n

Searows: Death in the Business of Whaling<\/p>\n