Frame proves Charlie Cunningham is adept at making something delicate brilliant
"Frame"
Charlie Cunningham traces the red threads that run through Frame with careful, intentional consideration – though each track feels as if it finds itself in its runtime, the air of exploration across the record is the result of firmly laid groundwork.
The meandering acoustic guitar that flows relentlessly through Cunningham’s writing; the loose song structures; the grounding resonance of his piano - all feel liberated, and relaxed as they lead the songs down whichever path they may take. “We’ll wind our way down”, murmurs Cunningham on third track “So It Seems”, evoking the sense of intuition and effortlessness that defines the arc of the whole record. But even in this instance, “So It Seems” doesn’t quite ‘wind’ its way down, but rather dances down a cleverly predetermined path, hitting all its marks along the way and giving Cunningham room to play around on the lighter layers of the track. Cunningham takes melodic motifs, whether the looming descent of “So It Seems” or the feather-light flickering of the likes of “Downpour” later on, and works the very best out of them: rather than leaping from fleeting idea to fleeting idea when you get into the bones of Frame, there’s so much familiar, thoughtful craft there.
The latter half of the album, where Cunningham’s vocals take a backseat to the lush instrumentation, lets you focus a little more on the little-by-little development of each motif and is home to some of Cunningham’s most intriguing, immersive moments. “Water Tower”, with its crooning, muted brass, shimmers with a glorious vintage atmosphere, but the mooching melody is just as catchy as any vocal chorus; the juddering triplets of “Pathways” are cinematic and dark and do more to create the track’s piercing feeling than the sheen of Cunningham’s singing.
On the production front, there’s a masterful blend of more intricately handled tracks oozing with sounds, and sparse, striking moments. But neither outperforms the other - “Shame I Know”’s swimming undertones and slightly thicker sound is no more or less rich than the haunting, icy balance of final track “Frame”, with its piano in the spotlight and little else. It feels at times like Cunningham could have pushed things further just a touch, and moments, where he does, are highlights, like the variation of “Water Tower”’s brass or the ethereal fuzz on “Starlings” merging effortlessly with the organic instrumentals. But he can’t be faulted for his subtlety, and while sometimes hesitant to add elements, he certainly knows how to make something delicate brilliant.
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