ALBUM REVIEW: Doves – Constellations for the Lonely

Doves have been crafting anthems for the disenchanted for over 25 years, but their story stretches back even further—to the neon-soaked, sweat-drenched floors of Manchester’s legendary Haçienda. Before they became indie royalty, they were Sub Sub, the dance outfit that topped the charts in 1993 with “Ain’t No Love (Ain’t No Use).”

While Doves have never repeated that chart-topping success, they’ve more than made up for it with a Mercury Prize nod, three number-one albums, and a reputation for turning melancholia into something transcendent.

Their latest offering, Constellations for the Lonely, wastes no time setting the mood. Opener “Renegade”—the last track recorded at their former Frank Bough Sound III retreat—begins with a swirl of distorted textures, crafting a dystopian landscape before classic echoing piano chords take over. Andy Williams envisioned Manchester as a “Blade Runner-style” urban sprawl, and with lyrics like “Far from the hopes and dreams of crashing out too low,” the tension is palpable. It’s an unsettling yet hypnotic welcome into the album’s shadowy world.

Jimi Goodwin hands over vocal duties to the Williams twins on multiple tracks. Jez and Andy make their presence known on “Cold Dreaming,” a rare moment of optimism that counters the album’s overarching themes of loss and longing. It’s a song about fighting fear and finding the strength to forgive, carried by shimmering synths and an acoustic-led build-up that later crashes into a wall of trebly bass and ’80s textures. The duo also take the reins on “Last Year’s Man,” which borrows the driving rhythm of Doves’ classic “New York” but twists it into something more cinematic, laced with haunting strings, crooner-esque delivery, and an unexpected harmonica break.

Goodwin resumes control for much of the album’s second half, where the band takes a few unexpected detours. “Stupid Schemes” channels Marvin Gaye’s R&B spirit without abandoning Doves’ signature atmospheric sound, while “Saint Teresa” brings a mandolin into the mix, backed by soaring choral harmonies and a swelling organ arrangement that turns the track into something almost sacred.

Then there’s “Orlando,” a deeply affecting moment that takes inspiration from Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas—a tale of isolation and redemption. Its sombre piano introduction gives way to one of the album’s most unpredictable and breathtaking instrumental shifts, a moment when Goodwin’s vocal delivery feels almost too raw, too personal to bear.

The journey ends with “Southern Bell,” where all three members share vocal duties, a fittingly communal closer for a record steeped in solitude. Constellations for the Lonely is classic Doves—dark, brooding, and beautiful in its devastation. But while their ability to turn personal pain into widescreen, heart-wrenching music remains intact, one can only hope that the inspiration for their next masterpiece comes from a place of peace rather than hardship.