Boasting a classical exterior and interior architectural designs, the Wiltern was not an aesthetic I planned on experiencing in America’s nu-design capital of Los Angeles. Needless to say, it was an inviting introduction to the evening. Immediately entering the lobby, I learned Wild Light, whose debut album I had callously reviewed in March, would be opening for Doves. But fortune was on my side- two full-fledged bars awaited right inside the theatre. Since a nice Stella Artois buzz could accompany me through Wild Light’s set, all was right with the world.
But before the drink, I had to take care of business. To any future Wiltern attendees, get there early and plow through the crowd to front center floor. They’ll grant you a wristband to this exclusive area, which literally sits inches from the stage. After making sure my stomach was coated with a malty beverage (or two), Wild Light pranced on stage to minimal applause. Either many concertgoers hadn’t heard their hit “California On My Mind”, or didn’t care. Echoing their debut album, Wild Light’s 35-minute set offered little in the way of musical diversity, and it wasn’t until they closed their set with “California” that the theatre filled in. Before singing the infamous “Give me a lake that I can dive into/ Bury my head in the shit at the bottom/ Fuck today/ Fuck San Francisco /Fuck California,” singer Jordan Alexander assured the audience that the lyrical hostility in “California” was directed toward the Bay Area and not Los Angeles. Either way, a Los Angeles crowd hearing “Fuck California” in any context is not inclined to appreciate it, and this testament was matched by half-amused applause.
In between sets, the crowd already seemed weary of the wait, a justifiable feeling considering Doves hadn’t been to the southwest U.S. in nearly four years. The lights dimmed, and the theatre roared with anxious bliss. As Doves entered, a subtly transitioning rear projector flickered images of airplanes. It didn’t take the audience long to deduce the subdued, techno-ish “Jetstream” would open the night. Moments after takeoff, “Jetstream” propelled the crowd into an unceasing dance.
Coming from a rural, post-industrial area of Upstate New York, finding fellow Doves fans is an improbable quest. So, being around several thousand Doves enthusiasts was a treat. Their knowledgeable reactions to every song helped fan the concert’s fire. It was difficult not to smile when an elevated cheering to Lost Souls‘ underrated “Rise” nearly drowned out the band. They continued with several more tunes from their latest, Kingdom of Rust, before popping out the first major crowd-pleaser of the night, “Pounding”. Perhaps I was the only one to notice that this onomatopoeia of a song highlighted the show’s only fatal flaw: The Wiltern’s acoustics. Andy Williams’ bass drum drowned out all of the meticulous atmospheric qualities that establish Doves’ profound sound. At one point bassist/frontman Jimi Goodwin cursorily asked the audience if they could even hear Doves keyboardist-on-the-road. Fortunately, Doves dished out a couple of their bass-drum-less songs like the mediocre “Ambition” and “10:03″ that were considerably enhanced in the live setting.
Though I expected a set list dominated by Kingdom of Rust songs, Doves conjured up a balanced amount of older material. Much of this was gratuitously saved for the encore, which was kicked off by the instrumental (and unexpected) “Firesuite”, a prime example of their enigmatic early work. This segued right into their early hit “Here it Comes”. Goodwin and drummer Andy Williams played musical chairs, Williams manning the microphone and harmonica, Goodwin tackling the percussion. My palms dripped with anxiety at the end of each song, wondering if it would be the last. This skyrocketed with the onset of the appropriately-titled “The Last Broadcast”, but my fears were soon set aside with the ultimate crowd-pleaser, “There Goes the Fear”, which catapulted dancing feet off the floor and into the air. Jimi Goodwin plucked the last chord, then waddled over to a pair of lonely tribal drums and beat away in the fashion of the non-edited album version. And thus, the Brits disappeared backstage as charmingly as they trotted out at the get go.
I was surprised at the intensity Doves presented. Their music being often subdued and laid back in its innate form, live renditions offered a very distinct, on-beat techno quality not so apparent on studio albums. It’s very encouraging to hear this overshadowed group conjure a potentially exciting musical crossover in their future career.
