REVIEW: Searows - Death in the Business of Whaling

More than a drop in the ocean

42:11 // January 23, 2026 // Last Recordings on Earth

Being an indie folk record in the year 2026 can be quite a curse: it can be quite tough to describe Death in the Business of Whaling without resorting to reductive comparisons. Sure, it’s true that Searows’ genre of choice is fairly saturated and that it’ll conjure “sounds like [insert sad singer songwriter here]”, but there is a darkness to his sound that feels rather unique. At surface level, …Whaling is a pretty, sad, and unassuming record, but once you spend a little more time with it, its Molina-esque slowcore sensibilities start unfolding itself into something much more impressive. Dammit, I did a comparison.

For starters, this album’s excellent sequencing allows for the blossoming of its overarching ambiance. Opening cut “Belly of the Wale” reels one in with its peaceful, brooding ambient folk, before “Kill What You Eat” ups the gloom by stripping nearly all of the soundscape down to fully focus on Alec Duckart’s vulnerable voice. Subsequently, …Whaling explores several corners of the indie folkiverse, from the Americana-sensibilities of “Photograph of a Cyclone” to the doomy nature of the grandiose highlight “Dearly Missed”. In doing so, each song remains entirely committed to the record’s overall oppressive and slow atmosphere. Even during relatively upbeat tracks like the aforementioned “Photograph of a Cyclone”, Duckart subtly guides the plucky melodies to a glacial pace by way of an instantly memorable hum. This even-keel approach allows for a project that is as expansive as it is clear in its vision: even the slightly oddball lo-fi closer “Geese” feels like a perfect and thematic fit.

Moreover, the stories of …Whaling are just as important to establishing the album’s entrancing atmosphere. Its small stories feel grand through the motifs used throughout, with a central focus on Duckart trying to make some sense out of depressions and the uncertainties of life. The mesmerising “Dirt” shifts its metaphors from the explicitly natural to the angelic, but retains its sense of dread by way of its understated chorus:

“‘Til the ground pulls you down

To the dirt, I knew we’d always come back to

And how do I feed you?

And will you keep this up ‘til somethin’ completes you?”

Searows’ lyrical approach is entirely concrete yet ungraspably abstract at once: it strikes the perfect, much sought-after balance between specific and universal without feeling inauthentic. However, “Junie” manages to make the biggest splash with its unexpectedly effective tale of, eh, dropping out of high school. By transforming the insecurities of the average high schooler into something more existential, the repeated “What am I doin’ now?” feels all the more impactful: this is not teen angst, it’s painfully grown-up desolation.

Ultimately, …Whaling is an album that manages to stand head and shoulders above the projects it will inevitably get compared to. It’s a well-rounded record that manages to capture an captivating angle on a genre that felt like it had none left. Even if it may not land in all situations - this is very much a “lay down in the dark with headphones”-album - it is bound to retain a level of intrigue as the seasons change. Above all, it is a whale of a time. Gottem.

9.0/10