All the tips in the world, all the knowing nods and winks towards a young band mean nothing if the debut long player doesn’t live up to expectations. Fortunately for Scottish three-piece The Duke, Detroit they deliver what early singles suggested could be a mighty fine talent. Early offering ‘Iconic‘ married indie-boy poise and jarring angularity with a pop sensibility and frankly just rather delicious dancefloor disco. Euphoric, even. Pretty much unimprovable in fact and what caused the industry to twitch.
‘Summer’s Come‘ – although clearly out of place in their native Caledonia as it enjoyed the crappest and wettest middle of the year in recent memory – was more reticent but still had a yearning beauty and unashamed appeal. Flanked by a monstrous re-working by long-time collaborator Flooze that stripped back proceedings to the barest of bare grooves with spectacular success. A producer heavily involved here.
And that’s what we get across all twelve tracks. Artful pop. Very very artful…but my goodness it is unabashed and unafraid to give way into straight up, strut-worthy rump-shakers. There’s no need to observe with an admiringly arched eyebrow. Well, you can…but it’s rather a challenge not to be consumed by the pervading glee. Rather like the Marr / Sumner project Electronic it’s a broad appeal. You can enjoy the influences and the quirks – fair few 80’s acknowledgements going on here amongst some almost post-rave, scything riffs and scratchy guitars – you can analyse and possibly even enthuse…or you can forget all that muso guff, turn it up and wave your arse about.
Geographical lineage of course with bands such as Orange Juice marrying post-punk sensibilities with a desire to make people dance. Perhaps even Franz Ferdinand as well, though they may not appreciate the comparison. Vocally there’s a pleasing drollness about it all creating a juxtaposition with the occasionally tingling spikes.
That dreadful NME-type phrase springs to mind – intelligent pop. Whilst that particular epithet was dreamt up for entirely self-regarding reasons it’s hard not to apply it to The Duke, Detroit. The funk, strings and rattling rhythm is as pop as it gets but there’s complexity that merits more and more investigation. And Troi Law’s deep vocals have real Manchester in 1984 in the rain vibe at times. In fact with a touch more grime in the lyrics Tony Wilson, had he not rudely gone and died, would have signed them up for a single at least. Maybe not in blood a la Joy Division but at least with the same enthusiasm afforded A Certain Ratio.
Happy times ahead for the band one hopes. This is very good stuff. Accessible but with enough gumption about it to keep one engrossed.
[Rating:4]
