The Doves

Goddamn, that first Doves disc ruled. Lost Souls remains the best British rock so far this millennium, a mopey epic with feeling that came through even when the songs themselves failed to signify. It nose-dived stateside, though, and since then the band has grown fussy, less generous and, worst of all, open to new ideas. “On this sweeping ballad,” the band seems to say, “we’ll drum like a Martha and the Vendellas single.” Or: “This one sounds like a winner, but it needs more prog. And more Can. And at the end we’ll ape Jacko’s mamma-say-mamma-saw-mama-co-sas but without actually singing ’em.” Some Cities has fewer (and better) ideas than 2002’s The Last Broadcast. “The Storm” is gorgeous. “One of Those Days” kinda rocks. Once in a while a melody sticks with you. There’s grandeur here. But there’s just as much dopiness.