You know, we music journalists have to content with a myriad of internal voices while reviewing. There's the simple, straightforward, credulous voice of the listener, who takes bands, songs and packages at face value. As a counter check, there's a savvier, hipper voice that considers music a constructed, made-up thing, sold to us by bands and manufacturers through advertising, photo shoots, press buzz and the ever-enticing promise of press photos. And, finally, there's a purely contrarian voice that plays devil's advocate, finding the easy path and countering it at every turn.

This kind of intrapersonal debating occurs with every release, but rages almost uncontrollably in the instance of a talked-up offering. Because, in such a case, it becomes so important to keep oneself from being swept up in embarrassing critical groundswell without dismissing a record that might be good just because someone else likes it. Case in point: Doves' Lost Souls, an album currently coasting on tons of buzz. Follow us as we take a look at three different approaches to reviewing the record, while revealing the secret tricks of the reviewer's game:

Step One: Snappy, Superficial Introduction

Straightforward: While, in the United States, electronic music is considered a new, arty, futuristic medium, it's been a regular part of the European palette for years. While Underworld seem spacy and abstract on these shores, they're a legit commercial force for our friends across the sea. What's more, techno's such a known quantity across the Atlantic; it's become strictly pro forma for any self-respecting rock band to incorporate a little 808 thud into their rock and roll mix.

Cynical: After the "electronica" "boom" rose and fell like Keith Flint's spiky haircut, all the big fancy record companies-- and the attendant faux-raver acts to whom they'd promised the world-- had to find a way to shore up their losses. Thus, the awkward shotgun marriage of rock to drum machines, resulting in efforts ranging from lovely (Radiohead) to dull (Smash Mouth) to bizarre (Rolling Stones produced by the Dust Brothers). All in all, the experiment can be deemed a bust.

Contrarian: Techno? Techno-rock fusion? Fuck that!

Step Two: Introduce the Band

Straightforward: A good, if somewhat surprising, example of the Euro tech-rock fusion is the debut LP from Doves, Lost Souls. Where most of the fusing has gone on in the rock camp, as aging amp-powered dinos struggled for relevance, Doves' effort provides a rare example of techno-schooled musicians digging in the crates for inspiration. Having made their first splash as a straight-ahead club act called Sub Sub, this trio of blokes woodshedded for a long time, started playing anachronistic instruments you strummed, plucked and hit, and ended up with a collection of damn-near-normal rock songs. Of course, the tincture of their throbbing house-kid past lurks in the shadows all the same.

Cynical: The latest group of cred-hungry beat monsters to cross this writer's desk are Doves, a frustratingly non-capitalized or articled threesome from the UK. Their record's got everything written in lowercase, there's a lot of noiry photos of a boxer, and the damn thing is called Lost Souls, all of which reeks of art (or, perhaps more aptly, "ahhht"). Scowling in front of a cityscape, clad in flannel, and sporting ridiculous stubblefields on their faces, Doves look like they're running as hard as they can from their bow as Sub Sub. There's a reason the single they released under that moniker never made it stateside, and I'm sure it had everything to do with the description "M People-esque," which appeared in the press kit.

Contrarian: Hairy, serious-looking songwriter types from England? Fuck that!

Step Three: Flailingly Desperate Attempt to Describe the Record

Straightforward: Lost Souls is nothing if not a sprawling, ambitious effort. Padded for U.S. arrival with three bonus tracks, the disc stretches out to more than 72 minutes, and I'll be damned if it isn't a solid, engaging effort throughout. Where the increased running time of a CD is usually more beast than beauty, the breathing room allows Doves to stretch out. Few of these tracks weigh in under the five-minute mark, and most of their durations are given over to jangling acoustic guitars and mid-tempo rhythms that, in places, resemble Mogwai's plaintive contemplation.

Tonally, Lost Souls reflects the after-after-midnight hours, as if the boys felt the need to document the hung over and blissed-out aftermath of the dancing-hours frenzy their Sub Sub days offered listeners years ago. That rarest of animals, a singing drummer named Andy Williams, wails discontentedly and virtually wordlessly over swelling and receding musical themes, while atmospheric keyboards and ominous samplework provide texture the barebones acoustic arrangements wouldn't achieve on their own.

Cynical: The heart of the problem on Lost Souls is its overreaching ambition. Naming the first track-- the virtually instrumental "Firesuite"-- after one of the more famous lost tracks from the Beach Boys' Smile sessions gives it away instantly. Doves are, in both their titling and endlessly sculpted sounds, after the same instrumental evocations Brian Wilson made and destroyed at the peak of his compositional powers. In most principle respects, the album is straight, rockist Brit-pop. But the samples and keyboards serve only to dress up fairly conventional songs, as if to conceal their pedestrian nature.

Contrarian: More Brian Wilson name-checking? Fuck that!

Step Four: Track-by-Track Highlights and Lowlights

Straightforward: Lost Souls, despite its reach and ambition, works best in its most conventionally melodic moments. The aptly named "Melody Calls" juxtaposes a typically languid vocal against an uncharacteristically jaunty guitar riff, and the result is a little radio-ready wonder. Similarly, the title cut's deep, throbbing chords work as this melancholy work's catalytic center, distilling the band's mixture of atmosphere and song down to a kind of essence.

Among the more adventurous tracks, "Firesuite" and "Break Me Gently" work best because of their carefully planned development and the skillful use of heavily effected vocals, which flesh out what could have been almost Dave Matthews-sized swaths of dull "jamming." But the stately ballad at the end of the album proper, "A House," accentuates the songiness of this effort. These boys are interested in beauty, power, emotion and feeling. Not idle wanking.

Cynical: Hey! He stole my stuff! Punk.

Contrarian: Emotion and feeling?! Fuck that!

Part Five: Summation

Straightforward: Despite its excesses, Lost Souls offers a novel twist on the electronics-plus-rock-equals-fun-for-trainspotters equation. The tech-rock fusion isn't dead in the water yet.

Cynical: Okay, fine. Even Brits can do something decent from time to time.

Combatative: Fuck England!

Part Six: The Rating

Straightforward: 7.3

Cynical: 6.2

Contrarian: Fuck numbers!

-Sam Eccleston