Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly.

The trouble with being a laptop folk one man band? Too many ideas.
"I went through about seven different albums before I got to this one," says Sam Duckworth, perched on a sofa in his tiny Hoxton studio. "There were 100 songs knocking about, all kinds of styles. Even tracks that made the record went through ten or fifteen incarnations. At first you start off thinking I'm going to do everything, I've got a billion ideas, it's going to be completely different'. Then you get into a rhythm of playing about with it."
 

Sam Duckworth is Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly., the Southend-born troubadour who named his solo project after a solution from an old Batman adventure game, surfed the enigma of it to the Top Thirty with his home-made 2006 debut album The Chronicles Of A Bohemian Teenager' (an album written and recorded on a self-discovery tour of the UK). He then hooked in Kate Nash and Billy Bragg to guest on the similarly successful 2008 follow up Searching For The Hows And Whys' (co- produced with Nitin Sawhney), became a leading figure in the political pop scene (a pub run-in with the BNP prompted Sam to become heavily involved with the Love Music Hate Racism campaign) and helped spark the new wave of modern folk heroes that's brought us Jamie T and Jack Penate.
 

For many less inspired artists that might be the end of their creative thrust.
But when Sam came to construct his third album over two years between his Hoxton base and Brixton's Dairy Studios, he found himself with a mountain of fresh and eclectic material with no idea how to fit any of it together.
"I'm glad I did everything I did on the second album, partly to get stuff out of my system, partly because I learnt a lot," says Sam. I had a lot of time to think about this record. The majority of it happened in one room, it wasn't in the studio, there wasn't a tracking schedule, I was just playing around with ideas."
 

Alongside co-producer Dean James, Sam built tracks around the basic acoustic melodies, and added reams of electronic layers that saw the tunes spiral off in ever more elaborate and exotic directions, inspired by a new love for hip-hop and a rediscovered passion for drum'n'bass.
 

One of the album's pivotal tracks, the plaintive acoustic Hand Me Downs' suggests Sam had hit a creative brick wall: "I didn't know what was the matter/I didn't know where to start/I'd lost my sense of energy and I'd lost my sense of heart".
 

"It was more of a struggle to get some clarity on where to stop, or what was the right thing to do," says Sam. "We maybe spent three months working on stuff in Brixton that didn't get used before writing that track. Then two songs, Nightlife' and a track that didn't make the album called The Earth Moved', happened in the next day. Suddenly this was the direction. It was like working within train tracks and then you step out of them and go wow, there's quite a big world out here of other things to go on'.
 

"There was a moment that it all just clicked. I was listening a lot to Articifial Intelligence', the De La Soul record and thinking about the beats, and I realised there was a hundred thousand things on my track and there were two on that De La Soul track. So then I was wading through everything, weeding almost, taking everything out and making sure that every sound was justifiable and it wasn't just there because it sounded interesting. You can have a record of loads of great noises at once but it'll sound like a bit of a jumble. It was like a light switch. Suddenly everything made sense. Now we had a sound and a vibe for the whole record."
 

Scrapping all but the six most melodically accomplished of his 100 songs, Sam completed the album by writing only another eight tunes. "Stepping away from writing at the computer and just writing, made a big difference.
The big danger of producing stuff on a laptop is before you've finished a song it's recorded, and everything else piles on top. I was working with the mentality that if it doesn't work with just the vocal and the acoustic all the way through as a song then there's no point in having it."
 

The record that emerged is the point where Sam dons the cape and truly flies. It's as imaginative, broad of genre and adventurous as the best of MIA, taking in big beat hits (Collapsing Cities', a collaboration with Shy FX), Swedish pop bangers (Nightlife': "I wanted to do a cruise ship crooner song that's so cheesy that it's almost unbearable. And then to tip it over the edge, put a really old school hip-hop beat underneath it and a swing to the beat that matches the swing of a crooner") and a global mash-up called All Of This Is Yours' which shuffles marvellously along like Gorillaz' Clint Eastwood' and featuring vocals from Baaba Maal, this is an elasticated world music wonder.
 

"It came out of being involved with the Afrika Express stuff," says Sam. "I went to Nigeria and the Congo and out of all the artists I met there, Baaba Maal was probably the guy that blew my mind the most. Particularly On The Road', the acoustic record – his playing was not like anyone else's. It's all relative tuning and feel… That thrown-in-at-the-deep-end-and-learn-how-to-swim mentality [of Afrika Express] is one of the best things I've ever experienced. You either have to step up or walk away, there's no other option."
 

Embedded in this record are an abundance of quasi-political themes, ideas and concerns and Sam expands on them at length: from the shedding of mankind's global responsibility to attacks on the greed of the banking system, the unifying nature of poverty-stricken communities, the emancipating possibilities of the internet for China and Iran, the BNP losing every council seat in the election plus the power of the protesters in Kent who forced the closure of a planned power station in Kings North.
 

"I didn't want to make a record that was so caught up in the problems that it didn't see a light at the end of the tunnel. I got sick of hearing the political movement and political songwriters getting so caught up in the weight of what it thought was its own power. It lost sight of the whole climate of the time, which is that people were back-lashing but they had nowhere to go. I was of the mindset that there's as much power in people coming together to dance as there is in people coming together to shout at somebody or protest against something. It's how that energy can be galvanized for a positive force."
 

Such positivity shines through the entire album; a breakthrough record spilling over with invention and musical possibility and hooks like the claws of Cloverfield and difficult to place in a box.
 

Sam corrects. "I don't really know what it is. I guess it's a pop record."
 

A pop record then. A brilliant, brilliant pop record.