Doveman

"Brevity is the soul of wit”; it’s a famous saying that, like many things, finds its origin with Shakespeare — Hamlet, to be exact. Incredibly ignored, though, is the line after that probably didn’t catch on because, well, it isn’t so brief: "And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes.” Although Doveman, or Thomas Bartlett, composes plenty of beautiful moments on this sophomore album, most of this tends to reflect the latter quote. Clocking in at well over an hour, with many, many instrumental interludes, it seems this young man either couldn’t commit to cutting anything or his vision is just that grandiose. Opener "The Sunken Queen” sets the tone of melancholic beauty and muted delivery but the resulting interlude ambles aimlessly and the album after never lifts itself out its slow-moving, whispered atmosphere. Bartlett, undeniably, has talent but this is actually quite a slog, at times. I’m sure Bartlett has a sense of humour but from this album, it’s a little hard to believe.