Right, let’s talk about Ker. Now that everyone with a laptop claims to be a pro, it really takes something real to break through all the online clutter. Scottish artist Ker—known offstage as Barry G.K. Thomson—has just dropped his first official single, “Wondering on Giants,” setting the tone for his ambitious 13-track debut album Converging Paths, slated for 2026. The album even includes “North Valley Stroll – Part 1,” a short, jaunty piano piece that hints at playful explorations he plans to develop on his second album.
Now, here’s the kicker, Ker spent the better part of his working life elbow-deep in the corporate grind of marketing before he properly got the itch. The genesis of Ker was surprisingly recent, back in 2014, far away in Kalispell, Montana, of all places. That walk into a music shop was a sharp pivot. What’s fascinating is how he’s distilled a lifetime of intense listening—starting with the primal thump of Elvis’s “Don’t Be Cruel” on a 78rpm—into this new passion. He name-checks the true titans of British progressive rock—Yes and Pink Floyd—alongside the acoustic sincerity of Dylan and Young. You can hear that devotion to structure, melody, and thematic depth throughout his work, backed up by his recent commitment to formal music theory and piano study. He finally found the space—literally, with a garden studio—to let the melodies derived from his ‘takes on life’ breathe.
“Wondering on Giants,” clocking in at a tight two minutes and fifty-nine seconds, is built on a foundation of acoustic rock that feels warm and reassuringly familiar. Ker’s acoustic and electric guitars form the track’s warm core, with subtle tender fills that give it personality, while his vocals carry a direct, honest energy that draws you in. The rhythm section is taut and grounded, while Pete Fairbairn’s piano, Rhodes, Hammond organ, and bass weave a rich, atmospheric backdrop that lifts the music without ever overpowering it. Jamie Graham’s drumming, production, and understated backing vocals bring clarity and space, letting each instrument—and each emotion—breathe. Even the initial recording by Andrew Entwistle contributes a sense of intimacy, which Graham’s mix preserves and enhances. The sonic result is satisfying—the kind of uplift Ker clearly set out to achieve.
“Wondering on Giants” digs into the raw force of the natural world and the human instinct to challenge it. Ker focuses on what he describes as a “three-cornered, timeless contest between man, mountains, and tempest.” He observes it in lines: “Rocks and boulders lace the hills / Streams and ferns there too / Heavy mists, low-lying clouds / Shroud the mighty peaks.”
The song is an ode to the mountains—their permanence and “static and noble” presence, quietly watching centuries go by. The music swells just right, lifting the chorus and capturing that feeling of standing before something truly ancient and immense. It’s about taking in that scale and finding strength in it.
As a statement of intent for Converging Paths, “Wondering on Giants” couldn’t be stronger. The album, including introspective tracks like “Lofty Thoughts” and the tender “There Are No Words,” demonstrates Ker’s ability to realize a distinctive sound that uplifts and resonates, while still showcasing the subtle, thoughtful contributions of Fairbairn and Graham. The collaborators’ touches never call attention to themselves—they exist to serve the music, helping Ker fully achieve his vision without ever diluting it.
“Wondering on Giants” is a music to sink into, and music that rewards careful listening. When Converging Paths finally lands next year, we may very well look back at this single as the moment a genuine, thoughtful artist stepped into the frame. Until then, we’ll be keeping this track on heavy rotation, contemplating the giants within us all.
