Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly - Wedgewood Rooms, 12 October

Since the days of strolling onto stage with an acoustic guitar, a laptop and a mass of hair threatening to engulf his entire head, Sam Duckworth’s stage presence has changed drastically. Instead of a one-man outfit, he now plays front-man of a full band that gives life and power to all of the ideas that used to be chirped out by his computer. The laptop may have been replaced by human equivalents, but the guitar and the continuous threat that his hair poses still remain integral to his live performances.

The quality of the songs on the twenty-four year old’s 2006 debut album come to light early in his set when the majority of the crowd wail the lyrics of ‘I Spy’ back at him before he has a chance to start them himself. When Duckworth and his band do kick in, the compositional intricacies are accentuated by a supremely talented line-up that fills out the sound with extra live percussion and backing-vocals. The full band adds a versatility to snap from full on choruses to quiet breakdowns, with the synthesisers supplying as many eerie sound effects as the laptop ever could have and occasional bursts of trumpet piercing through the soundscape.

After such an energetic opening to the set from an artist with acoustic roots, a few songs worth of bean-bag time were to be expected. However, with the band off stage and Duckworth left alone, the fidgeting from the crowd did become audible after two or three songs; though not enough to dampen his charm or likeability on stage. This quiet mid-section oddly acted as a segway into a political, anti-fascist rant, set to an oddly jazzy accompaniment. Despite any valid message, this could have come across as a Bono-esque display of arseholery if it had come from anyone else and not been delivered quite so articulately. In fact pretty much everything he said made sense. The set ended on a more energetic, cheerful note with a cover of Daft Punk’s ‘Digital Love’, which (unlike most attempts) did the original justice and a flourish of brass utilising ‘Call Me Ishmael’ and the whole group’s full potential.