Despite appearances and a back catalogue suggesting otherwise, Doves are a nimble, hard and funky band. Live, they frequently encore with the monstrous, dance/rock end of the world rave up Space Face/Crunch dating back to their Sub Sub days. Makes sense really. The band not only hails from Manchester but they also met at the iconic Hacienda nightclub in the ‘80s, which at the time was the hedonistic centre of the music universe. Years passed by and the band reinvented as maudlin alt-rockers mirroring the prevailing mood in Britain – all millennial anxieties and jaw-gnashing post Brit-pop comedown. Through it all, there was something more to Doves. Songs laden with inverting arpeggios one minute would disappear quietly the next
only to reappear as crunchy, arena thumpers. On Kingdom of Rust the band has struck a fine balance between history and forward momentum. House of Mirrors and Winter Hill are instant Doves classics, but it’s the white boy funk of Compulsion and skronk-dub of 10:03 that you finally hear a band letting all the elements fall emphatically, gloriously into place.
