Kingdom Of Rust

Listeners feeling nostalgic for early ’00s will likely find a lot to like about Kingdom Of Rust, with its skipping rhythms, chiming guitars, wobbly sheets of synthesizer, and the throaty, eyes-screwed-shut yelp of frontman Jimi Goodwin. And even those who think Doves peaked with 2002’s sprawling The Last Broadcast should appreciate the new album’s sonic depth.

Whatever way you look at Kingdom Of Rust it’s a magnificent rock record, one which will delight the faithful and also surely see them pick up new devotees.

A certain confidence is all over Kingdom of Rust. Not the brash, cocksure swagger of a debut album, but the quiet conviction that comes with experience. It sounds like another victory for maturity.

This is still a bright record, however, one that finds catharsis in the gloomier songs and strength in the tracks that resemble Lost Souls' measured anthems.

By expanding their repertoire, taking a few risks, and nailing those harmonies, they’ve made what feels like the first great British album of 2009.

Title withstanding, there's no rust on these guys. [May 2009, p.121]

This is mostly an album about England, about hearts beating wild and strong through wind whipped, rain-lashed, solace-in-introspection northern living. [May 2009, p.97]

Doves succeed in giving fans their fix of new music that sounds fresh without altering the formula so much as to alienate any of their devotees.

Kingdom Of Rust is Doves' defining work, an album of bold adventure. [May 2009, p.108]

They assemble perfect pop structures even as their materials oxidized, carefully building that Kingdom of Rust. [Spring 2009, p.65]

Even if the album loses its way with its final two tracks, you are left so exhausted by this stage that it almost comes with a sense of relief. By reinventing what they do best, Doves have fearlessly strutted back onto everyone's radar.

On Doves’ fourth LP, Kingdom of Rust, the music is more granite than limestone, continuing 2005 album "Some Cities’" move toward cacophonous beauty.

Doves' fourth album is another sterling example of why the Doves should be household names and why they probably won't ever be: their unwavering flair for producing mountainous, Wembley-worthy pop anthems that are nonetheless invested with a palpable degree of grace and humility.

Previous albums never quite lived up to the band's facility for knockout singles, but this one holds the attention.

Good, not great, comeback from epic Mancs.

It's familiar, sure, but Kingdom of Rust has a welcome warmth.

It gradually reveals itself as a lithe and texturally consummate work.

While it feels a little sheepish to rag on a band for being a little too competent at what they do, the best you can really say about this, their fourth LP, is that it’s simply a good product that’s easily recognizable as a Doves album.

Kingdom of Rust is wonderfully dolorous, but when Doves rev up the tempos on tracks like 'The Outsiders,' they show they're not a total pity party.

For all its strengths, though, Kingdom of Rust also leaves us with the uneasy feeling that Doves are starting to feel more comfortable with the idea of merely staying the course instead of exploring bolder ideas.

For better or for worse--you'll like it because of the music it reminds you of, but you won't love it for exactly the same reason.