Fate

Fate still manages to be a master class in illusory "good" songwriting. The bulk of it is so fenced into classicist templates-- chamber-y pop meets maximum R&B with the occasional smidge of "tasteful" gospel/parlour games ("Hang On") that, even when merely competent, it can still win over those unimpressed with all that punk and hip-hop riff raff of the past three decades.

For now, it looks like Dr. Dog will stick to their sunny, over-produced pop songs, finding safe ground, pitching tent, and making camp for the night.

Fate exposes the larger problem with Dr. Dog’s catalog -- namely, that the band have become so comfortable where they are that they are content to merely play to type.

Fate feels less like a straight tribute to Dr. Dog's elders and more like a finely tuned collage.

Unfortunately, it's also phenomenally uninteresting. That isn't to say that the album is bad. Put it on at a low-key party and nobody will complain--but they probably won't ask you what it is either.

With such impeccable raw materials, it's inevitable that several songs here are irresistible, notably Fate and The Old Days, the former a trembling love song, the latter a clattering hoe-down. Even so, a little more idiosyncrasy wouldn't go amiss.