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‘Filmic’ is a description often applied to Doves’ work, but here they fully embrace it.
Overcoming adversity isn’t a new experience for Doves.
After a studio fire curtailed their first incarnation as Sub Sub, Mancunian trio Jimi Goodwin and brothers Jez and Andy Williams returned as the new millennium dawned, taking the electronic mindset into dusky indie anthemia to great success and acclaim.
After another three albums, the trio took a break before returning in bombastic form with 2020’s The Universal Want.
Unfortunately, after delaying the tour because of the pandemic, the campaign was definitively cancelled when Goodwin’s health and well-being concerns became apparent.
Yet beauty has come from sadness, with Constellations For The Lonely arguably their best album yet.
That said, those expecting the big choruses of old will disappointed; Doves’ sixth effort is a darker, denser affair which doesn’t shy away from their troubles but still finds space for sonic experimentation.
‘Filmic’ is a description often applied to Doves’ work, but here they fully embrace it. Renegade opens with a sound akin to a glacier shattering before an icy slide (a tip of the hat to the Blade Runner soundtrack by Vangelis) announces their familiar percussive rustle.
Yet despite the sci-fi imagery, home is never far from their minds: Piccadilly Gardens is referenced on the chorus, albeit a far-flung version to which Scott Walker has somehow been transported.
On release it seemed a curious choice for a lead single with its subtle chorus, but when listening to the album as a coherent piece it’s a perfect introduction.
Last Year’s Man is a great lost 60’s spy classic as Goodwin and Andy trade vocals against a backdrop of eerie harmonica, sweeping mandolins and John Barry strings. A fitting reminder that, despite their understated approach, the trio have always been musically ambitious.
Equally, the ethereal In The Butterfly House is new territory, with a spoken-word intro from Goodwin as he sounds lost in a dream before it heads skywards. Discombobulating but welcome.
Cold Dreaming began life when Jez and Andy were in side-project Black Rivers back in 2018, yet its David Axelrod flecks and Motown elation smother a subtle hint at the band’s travails (‘God knows it ain’t easy but I can’t spend my days in fear’) alongside a message of forgiveness and – that most familiar of Doves traits – resilience.
As has now been well-publicised, Doves are hitting the road without Goodwin, but while his absence may be felt on the road, he is very much present here, specifically on the juddering A Drop In The Ocean which includes perhaps his best-ever vocal (the heartbreaking cry of ‘You’re not there’ in particular), making himself heard against dense layers of production and neon guitars.
Meanwhile, the woozy, soulful stomp of Stupid Schemes is classic Doves, complete with great psyche-guitar as Goodwin implores us to, ‘Be careful of their liberties’, while on the fractured Orlando his melancholy vocal embodies the role of someone who is trying to reconnect with their previous life.
Elsewhere, the rolling drums and wistful vocals on Saint Theresa are a warming balm in these cold days, but in contrast the almost suffocatingly intense Strange Weather once again alludes to internal strife (‘Strange weather is here again, it’s all kind of oblivion’) as it – if it’s not too obvious – crackles with intent before bursting into widescreen life, as a storm breaks for sunshine.
Lastly, the finger-plucked Southern Bell may once again refer to the band (‘The blaze of glory, the last stand in our story’) but evokes Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in its message of defiance.
As with all Doves albums, Constellations For The Lonely reveals something new on each listen, but the overwhelming message is that this is a band strengthened and emboldened by hardship, ready to face the world, as ever, on their own terms.
A triumph.