Dove Ellis, Alexandra Palace Theatre, London review • DIY Magazine

There’s a small drumroll as Dove Ellis begins his set tonight. It’s not ostentatious or gimmicky, but still enough to quiet the low hum of chatter hanging loosely over the floor of Alexandra Palace Theatre; enough to signal, subtly, the sense of occasion at play. It’s just about the only thing we can make out, too, such is the shadowplay obscuring the Irish indie-folk troubadour and his band.

To his left and right, on the wings of this Victorian stage, are carefully arranged stacks of musical paraphernalia - a guitar on its stand, an amp, a saxophone resting atop its case - and, as he kicks into opener and unreleased number ‘Brown Hole’, these focal points alone are lit. As the track unfurls, he and his band - recently expanded from three to five, he tells us, thanks to the recent addition of guitarist Louis Campbell and bassist/viola player Saya Barbaglia (of mary in the junkyard) - are cast in haunting hues of coloured light, which shift and morph as if imprints on a sun-lit eyelid. It’s uncanny, even slightly unnerving; it’s a quiet but confident bid for our full, undivided attention. And it’s worked - from here on out, nobody can look away. Start to finish, he’s mesmeric.

(Not even his leftfield ad-libbing can burst the bubble: “I feel terrible beginning such a wonderful occasion with a song about the anus,” he offers, seeming entirely earnest about both his reverence and regret).

For an artist who only released his debut album at the turn of last year - and his debut single mere months before that - Dove is far more than this timeline would suggest. He moves between guitar and piano with seamless grace, sitting down to the latter to gear-shift from the familiar, delicate territory of ‘Pale Song’ to ‘Mozart’, another new track, which pairs harmonica stabs and thunderclap drums to evoke a tempestuous summoning of sorts. Between the rousing chords of ‘Heaven Has No Wings’ and the aching melancholy of ‘I’ll Be Gone By Christmas’ comes a subsequently-repeated shout - “Up the Dove!” - that speaks a thousand words in three.

It’s a rare thing for an artist to have arrived so fully formed: his vocal tone is imbued with that same visceral, primal feeling that Ezra Furman, Jacob Alon, and Cameron Winter possess; these songs sound so much older than their years. Delivered through a haze of pink smoke, the goosebump-inducing ‘Love Is’ is every bit as stirring and unexpectedly euphoric as you’d hope, an ode to anti-romance that the whole crowd preaches alongside him. There’s a brief moment, before Dove bids his band goodbye and closes with a tender solo rendition of ‘Away You Stride’, that the house lights go up, and he can see the rapt, cheering faces of his congregation. And just for a second, he’s the spellbound one.

Tags: Dove Ellis, Reviews, Live Reviews