Philadelphia revivalists refine Fabness
“Put that needle to the groove and sing, ‘ooooooooooooh,’” Dr. Dog croons on “The Breeze,” Fate’s opening track. The band’s fifth album employs unabashed Beatles arrangements as if the Fab Four were a genre unto themselves, and Dr. Dog merely traditionalists. There’s plenty of British music hall in “The Old Days,” but there’s also a hint of reggae’s aphoristic simplicity (“Chop! Chop! Chop! Tree gonna fall down”). Even on ooooooooooooh-absent “The Ark,” which borders on Raconteurish blues sludge, Dr. Dog eventually snaps to stateliness so dude can get his McCartney on. “From,” which follows, is virtually all harmonies, cool and pleasant. So instantly pleasing, the trickery is transparent, a hook to keep listening until the content of Toby Leaman and Scott McMicken’s songs makes itself known. One can’t blame them. If it feels good, do it. Right?