Doves' career up to now had seen a fairly clear, organic progression: Lost Souls was at times desolate and sparse, but regularly beautiful. The Last Broadcast upped the epic levels significantly, while 2005's underrated Some Cities added a Northern Soul percussive sensibility. The lyrical themes remained fairly constant, but the ways in which they were backed were steadily evolving and being refined. After a four year gap, the first question therefore, is what Kingdom of Rust sees added to the Doves repertoire?

Er, pretty much fucking everything, actually. Doves have thrown the kitchen sink at their kitchen sink dramas, producing an album full of body swerves and deceptive twists and turns. The stunning opening of 'Jetstream' provides the first of many false starts; its brooding loops and Mezzanine-era Massive Attack atmospherics quite unlike anything that follows.

If there is a common theme to Kingdom of Rust, it can be heard in the scuzzy bass of the Jason Pierce-esque drone of 'The Outsiders', or the magnificent 'House of Mirrors', a hugely entertaining (and heavy) romp through Love's back catalogue (from the proto-garage of 'Seven and Seven Is' to the theatrical psychedelia of Forever Changes in four minutes flat). Yep, Doves now rock. Hard. Even '10:03', for the first couple of minutes a lovely, if typical, ballad, gets bored of itself and decides to go stark ravingly brilliantly bonkers, giving way to disconcerting looped vocals and yet more distorted riffage.

Of course, this new found attitude could never prevent Doves from serving up moments of pure tenderness. They're still here, but the richness and variety of the production sees the grey drabness of their scenery presented in glorious technicolour. 'Winter Hill', one of the album's two John Leckie produced tracks, is perhaps the most evocative thing the band have ever written. One part Who to one part classic Stone Roses jangle, it's a paean to a lost love. When the glorious refrain implores the song's subject to "take the long, grassy track, to the top of Winter Hill", you're right there with her. This isn't wallowing in self pity, this is catharsis. The title track, too, sees familiar themes of urban decay tackled in altogether more colourful ways, its spaghetti western vibe completely at odds with, yet perfectly suited to, the lyric's inherent working class Englishness.

If all this sounds remarkably like a 5 star review, it's because it damn nearly is. Unfortunately the pretty but snail paced 'Birds Flew Backwards' and the banal 'Spellbound' (together in the middle of the album) kill the pace too much, leaving the slap bass disco (yep) of the Blondie-apeing 'Compulsion' feeling isolated and out of place. Which on an album this eclectic, is bizarre in the extreme. If Doves can only add 'being able to put songs in their correct order' to their fast lengthening list of abilities, their next LP could be a true classic, rather than merely being one of the best records you'll hear in 2009.