On a bloody cold December night, I found myself dithering and weaving through Manchester’s streets, heading toward the city’s iconic Art Deco landmark, the O2 Apollo. Once a grand variety hall, now a Mecca for live music, its glowing friendly façade promised warmth and sound against the chill.
Tonight was special though. Doves were back. It had been far too long since I last saw them, and I’ll admit it, I was buzzing. I joined the throng outside for the usual ‘frisk’ and could immediately sense the anticipation of something magical brewing.
But first, the support –
Arkayla
Manchester-based quartet Arkayla. Never seen em, never heard of em, but now? I REALLY like em. Another one of those bands that when you hear them, you spend a few minutes wondering what rock you’ve been living under. What really captured me was their presence. They carried themselves with the confidence and energy of a band that’s been doing this for decades, yet still so fresh-faced. They’re a glorious concoction of guitar-heavy indie rock, all wrapped in songwriting that’s sharp but sophisticated. I kept catching hints of (possible) influences, maybe I’m imagining it, but I’d say there was definitely a splash of Orange Juice’s jangly charm and a sprinkle of The Smiths’ melodic melancholy in the mix. Either way, they were refreshing. Crooning vocals, gritty riffs and memorable melodies. Favourite song was “Waste of Time.” Again, introduced with the weary charm of an unimpressed 65yr old who’s lived through a catalogue of life’s disappointments, but then skilfully, turned them into a tune you can’t help but like.
Arkayla are different and I’d say, definitely ‘one to watch’. Whatever their recipe, it worked for me.
Hayden Thorpe
Hayden Thorpe, former lead singer and songwriter of the critically acclaimed Wild Beasts (2002–2018), is known for his operatic flair—and from the moment he stepped on stage, I was mesmerised. Totally unique.
I’d heard of Hayden before but never seen him live, and I have to say, his theatrical vocal style left me speechless. Almost operatic in tone, his delivery carried an intensity and drama you rarely witness. It’s still ‘indie,’ but not as you know it. He’s redefining the genre by transforming indie rock into a rich, artistic tapestry that fuses poetic lyricism with lush, emotional instrumentation. A marriage of vivid storytelling and deeply atmospheric melodies is the best way I can describe Hayden. I liked him. The perfect choice to loosen the aviary door latch before letting Doves take flight.
DOVES
Whilst City shirts were glowing in pockets of the crowd and Hayden’s warm set ushered us towards nine o’clock, the room had this unmistakable hum of a homecoming only Manchester knows how to celebrate. Terrace-style chants filled the air as the crowd await two brothers who have taken the reins of a band that, for 25 years, has turned northern melancholy into communal uplift.
I think it’s important to shout about the sheer resilience of these guys. This isn’t just another Manchester indie band coasting on the fumes of ’90s nostalgia for the over 40 crowd. This is a band that’s been through the wringer and still storms the stage like the horror movie villain that just wont die.
Doves’ story began with fire. Literally. Before Doves, they were ‘Sub Sub’, a dance outfit who lost virtually everything when their Ancoats studio burned down in 96. Then they re-emerged as Doves in 98 and within two years released Lost Souls (2000), the first of a run of albums that would make them beloved fixtures of the British indie landscape, AND a Mercury Prize nominee. Two years later, The Last Broadcast (2002) went straight to No. 1 and earned another Mercury shortlist, sealing their reputation for anthemic bangers. (I don’t feel like you can write a review without using the word ‘banger’).
They’ve always been a Mancunian band with national reach. Early 2000’s singles like “There Goes the Fear”, “Pounding”, “Caught by the River” wired a generation of fans to the idea that introspection could be ecstasy. After a (too) long hiatus from 2010, they returned in 2019 (a headline night for Teenage Cancer Trust at the Royal Albert Hall) and, in 2020, released The Universal Want, their third UK No. 1 album.
The truth behind this tour is deeply personal. Every time I’ve said I wanted to see Doves, the reply has been the same ‘Nah, I’ll wait for Jimi.’ Jimi Goodwin who’s still involved in new material, stepped away from live shows to (admirably) focus on his mental health and sobriety, which led to the cancellation of the 2021/22 dates. In late 2024, the band announced intimate gigs with an expanded lineup, Jez and Andy sharing lead vocals, and a clear, honest explanation underscoring Jimi’s support. That transparency shaped the tone for 2025’s tour. And… ‘So, Here We Are.’”
Before we get underway, I have one thing to say for the ‘wait for Jimi’ crowd – You are SERIOUSLY missing out.
Conversations faded into murmurs as eyes turned toward the stage, where a world of light and shadow began to unfold. The visuals were stunningly atmospheric.
A looming lighthouse casting its beam in slow, hypnotic arcs across the stage, sweeping from one side to the other like a searchlight over dark seas. Goosebump-inducing. The anticipation was palpable, the crowd a coiled spring seconds before the band stepped out and broke into ‘Word’s. The audience response was electric. Before immersing us into Carousels, Jez strode forward with a big smile and declared: “I think this is going to be a rowdy one.” The audience roared back in agreement with a wave of reassuring cheers that made the place tremble.
The beast of a setlist landed like a “best-of” but had been to the gym and gained some impressive new muscle. “Prisoners” brought the brooding edge and as the night accelerated, “Pounding” did what it always does. It turned clapping into thunder and balcony seats into standing room. The deep nostalgia of “The Cedar Room” and “Kingdom of Rust” were cinematic, while the anthemic “Black and White Town” unfurled with that unmistakable pulse of Mancunian togetherness.
Jez at the mic, Andy everywhere. Both creating that same ‘Doves sound’ to the same musical standard they are known and loved for. Much of the conversation around these shows has focused on whether the Williams brothers could fill the void live.
The answer in Manchester was emphatic. Jez, dressed head to toe in black, emerged a confident, engaging frontman, while Andy, between drum duty and occasional leads, kept the emotional pulse of the room in check. Their signature sound wrapped the Apollo in warm embrace that everyone had longed for. That beautiful unmistakeable wholesomeness that Doves have always traded in.
What turned their comeback into renaissance was ‘Constellations for the Lonely’ (released February this year), a frankly dark cinematic sixth album that critics hailed as a triumph over adversity. It’s a record with all three members’ fingerprints, yet one that also gave Jez and Andy room to lead vocals and mood. You hear Blade Runner shadows in “Renegade”, psychedelic-soul in “Cold Dreaming”, and Smiths leaning tenderness in “Last Year’s Man”. Gut wrenching melodies that feel both expansive and bruised. I loved it on first listen and equally, loved it live.
Amid the euphoria, there were grounded, human touches. Andy raised a brew and saluted the Williams brothers’ mum (90 in February) “she’s more f***ing rock n roll than any of us” a line that got a roar. Later, the band paused to honour the legendary Mani, remembered locally after his passing last month. Before “House of Mirrors”, Andy called him “a beautiful person,” everyone felt it, I think. I know I did. Manchester honouring Manchester.
Catching sight of Alex Reeves and Pete Turner from Elbow was surreal, then Guy Garvey himself appears and starts chatting while I, embarrassingly, uncontrollably slip into ‘fan mode’, gushing about his Castlefield Bowl gig like a starstruck teenager who’s forgotten how words work. Might as well of ask him to sign my forehead.
By the by…Naturally, whispers rippled through the crowd, people asking if Guy was going to appear with Doves on stage for a surprise cameo. I hadn’t got the guts to ask. but for a few minutes I was stood thinking, can you imagine if he did? The possibility hung in the air like static for quite some time, and that alone was enough to make the pre-show buzz even more electric. It didn’t happen though. It would have been nice, but this was still a special evening without Guys cameo.
Doves without Jimi on stage, but with Jimi’s blessing and presence woven through the new songs, proof that the band’s centre can expand without breaking. In radio interviews and fan forums through the year, supporters have emphasised how honesty around mental health deepened their connection to this tour. You could hear that understanding in the cheers from the crowd which was beautiful to witness.
If you came for nostalgia, you got it. But if you came for proof that Doves can still feel fresh, you got that too.
The encore’s run of “Snowden” (my favourite – makes me cry, I need to get a grip, I know) “There Goes the Fear”, and the Sub Sub throwback “Space Face” was pure celebration, a wink to where they started and a wave towards where they’re going.
This December run, in support of the “So, Here We Are” Best Of Doves release, doubled as a broader celebration. First Apollo show since 2007, a marker of how far they’ve come and why Manchester remains their true north. With a ‘Best Of’ out and more dates booked (including joining James in UK arenas in 2026), Doves have admirably turned a difficult chapter into momentum.
Through fires, silence, and storms, their wings may have been singed, battered by the heat of adversity, but never broken. Every scar tells a story of resilience, every stumble a lesson in courage. This is not a tale of perfection, but it is a testament to flight against the odds. Honest in their struggle, raw in their truth, and unwavering in their determination, Doves journey reminds us that even when the skies darken, those who dare to rise will always find a way to soar.” This definitely isn’t their ‘last broadcast’.
Words and Photos by Shavorne Wilbraham
