Doves, The Last Broadcast (Heavenly UK) 9+
There are two contradictory discourses about British music that both overstate their case. One is that Britpop is dead and there are no more great bands from the U.K. (bollocks), the other that relative newcomers like Travis, Embrace, Coldplay, Starsailor and South are doing something new and exciting (pish posh). In between the piles of hyperbole reside Doves, a Manchester band whose 2000 debut Lost Souls caused critics to hyperventilate in heaping praise upon it, while largely ignored in the U.S. While they were credited (or blamed) for returning to "big eighties music" like U2 and Echo & the Bunnymen, the reality was that the album was a bit monochromatic and dreary. That problem has been solved with the diverse new collection, The Last Broadcast. On "Words" they harmonize like Ride amidst swirling electronics and glockenspiel, employing a stately circular rhythm that recalls The Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony," which practically defined the English zeitgeist of summer '97. "There Goes The Fear" starts with a glistening, cascading melody reminiscent of early James, and through its seven-plus minutes takes a percussive journey that tips its hat to New Order and The Stone Roses as it sails off on its paisley-print magic carpet, eventually landing in a Caribbean carnaval. "M62 Song" is acoustic psych gentle as hovering fireflies which may very well be UFOs in disguise (hello, Flying Saucer Attack reworks King Crimson's "Moonchild"). The celestial instrumental "Where We're Calling From" segues into the Mercury Rev-style rave-up "N.Y." peaking with a deliciously noisy, fading din. Moving from strength to strength, "Satellites" is another epic cut that stops just sort of overwhelming bombast, using gospel elements much like Spiritualized and Blur's "Tender." "Friday's Dust" integrate acoustic guitar, strings, oboe to a powerful, sonically glorious effect. Per it's title, "Pounding" charms with less subtle tactics that will make it a predictable, yet welcome, choice for a single. The remaining tracks cover similar melancholy territory as their first album and fellow Mancunians Elbow. With not a single bum track, The Last Broadcast is a mildly adventurous, surprisingly uplifting, often spine-tingling album that Doves' peers will be hard pressed to top this year save for a revolutionary giant step on the scale of Radiohead.
