Cian Ducrot
Little Dreaming
Polydor
Following the breakout success of his debut, Victory, Irish singer-songwriter Cian Ducrot returns with Little Dreaming, an album that doesn’t just match the emotional heights of its predecessor — it soars past them. Deeply personal, undeniably theatrical, and brimming with sonic variety, Ducrot’s sophomore effort is a triumphant leap into a more liberated, fully realized sound.
From the start, Ducrot makes it clear that Little Dreaming is a record of self-discovery and expression. The cheeky opening track, “It’s Cian, B*tch”, serves as both an inside joke and an invitation. Over vibrant brass and buzzing synths, Ducrot corrects the frequent mispronunciation of his name (“It’s Kee-yan”) with humor and flair. It’s a small but effective gesture, witty, self-aware, and deeply human, which sets the tone for an album steeped in honesty and connection.
The album’s lead single, “Who’s Making You Feel It,” stands tall as a modern pop ballad with the emotional weight of an Elton John classic. Opening with elegant piano chords, the track builds into a lush, radio-friendly anthem dripping in retro glamour and layered with bitter sarcasm. The accompanying music video, directed by Jasmine De Silva, furthers this cinematic aesthetic with vintage Hollywood flair. It’s clear that Ducrot is no longer just penning heartfelt ballads, he’s crafting pop moments.
But Little Dreaming is more than just big choruses and glittering production. It thrives in contradiction. Songs like “Unfair” and “Break My Heart” dig into the quiet, painful corners of love and loss. Written in fleeting moments of vulnerability, these tracks feel more like diary entries than pop singles, making their emotional impact all the more profound. “Break My Heart”, co-written in Paris with long-time collaborator Tristan Salvati, strips everything back to raw self-reflection: “Break mine before I break yours.” It’s one of the album’s most gutting moments.
Meanwhile, the title track “Little Dreaming” bursts with joy and color. It’s an unapologetic anthem for individuality, glittering with defiance and theatrical flair. “Stop caring what people think!” Ducrot shouts in the liner notes, and the song follows through, celebrating self-expression with an almost childlike glee. The synth-driven arrangement recalls the glitzy charm of Queen while remaining firmly rooted in Ducrot’s unique voice.
The socially charged “No Way To Live” takes a more confrontational tone, calling out judgment and close-mindedness in society. “Stop judging people!” he implores over a biting, rhythmic arrangement. Similarly, “Shalalala” channels collective struggle into hopeful resilience, powered by gospel harmonies and thunderous drums. It’s a rousing, communal cry for unity in dark times, one that manages to uplift without preaching.
One of the album’s most touching moments arrives with “Book of Love,” a heartfelt ode to a friend navigating heartbreak. “I wanted to give her a hug in song form,” Ducrot explains, and that warmth is palpable. Similarly, “My Best Friend” is a tear-stained tribute to someone he’s lost. Its tenderness and aching nostalgia will stay with listeners long after the final chord.
The album’s final two tracks, “Your Eyes” and “See It To Believe It,” are spiritual siblings: one a quiet moment of gratitude, the other a booming celebration. They anchor the record in hope, love, and contentment, proving that Ducrot’s heart beats loudest when it’s filled with appreciation for life’s simplest joys.
Throughout Little Dreaming, Ducrot is supported by longtime collaborators Anton and Isabella Sjöstrand, as well as an all-star team of producers and songwriters. The result is a sonically rich, emotionally nuanced collection that balances radio-ready production with lyrical depth. There are echoes of his musical heroes, Elton John, Michael Jackson, Freddie Mercury, but Ducrot’s storytelling remains distinctly his own.
Little Dreaming is a declaration of selfhood, artistic freedom, and emotional truth. It invites listeners to cry, to dance, to dream a little, and to feel a lot. For Cian Ducrot, this is not just a personal victory, it’s a communal one.
