PREDICTIONS flutter to the ground like snowflakes at the start of every year and, all too soon, they (From Warrington Guardian)

PREDICTIONS flutter to the ground like snowflakes at the start of every year and, all too soon, they

That said, I am tempted to join the current championing of the finest band Manchester has produced since Frank Sidebottom's 'Cor Blimey Big Band ... Doves!

I have to admit. I was just too lazy to troop to Blackpool's Empress Ballroom last week to catch a glimpse of Doves showcasing the soon-to-come album, Some Cities. Mostly this was because, well, Blackpool's Empress Ballroom is in Blackpool and the desire to wade through troughs of regurgitated Rogan Josh created by weekending psychopathic Herberts from Motherwell has started to wear a bit thin. I am of an age when my preferred gig should take place on a Sunday afternoon, in a state of the art concert hall in, say Bath or Tunbridge Wells. I could relax in comfort; sipping a decent merlot and nibbling rocket salad while the band perform entirely for the benefit of myself and three quiet ladies from the Cotswolds. I realise that this is an unlikely scenario and vow to catch the band in April at Manchester's Apollo when, hopefully they will be basking in the glory of an album that is lifting them to the heights of a Coldplay or a Travis or something equally dull.

Doves are blessed with an atmospheric resonance that extends way beyond such monotone outfits. I say this even though, I freely admit, I came to the band very late indeed. In fact, it wasn't until last week, when my hi fi was finally allowed to weep in the face of their extraordinary debut, Lost Souls. Friends of mine are staggered by this admission and I am sorry. I must have been too busy listening to Ryan Adams or ogling some depressingly inept girl band to take much notice. Which is strange, as Doves came out of the Rob Gretton base in which I had been known to gently frequent during their period as the dance protagonists, 'Sub Sub'.

I am mentioning this because, while being disgracefully late to the cause of that initial album, my ears have already found themselves attuned to their aforementioned third outing, due for release in February. Fronted by the Northern Soul inspired new single, Black and White Town, Some Cities is a hugely addictive self-effacing affair, where the holistic elegant drone glides from the very back of the mix. The effect is ethereal, hypnotic and, on the beautiful new ballad, Ambition, recoils to a base that is positively Floydian ... asin Pink! (Or it could be, one senses, a nod to the parallel talents of Elbow).

The prediction, therefore, is to see Doves taking flight in the new year and drifting into the American big league in the wake of the phenomenal 2004 success stories of Franz Ferdinand, The Libertines and, of course, Radiohead. Encouraging indeed, seeing America, for once, acknowledging British inventiveness.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, although just as welcome, came the news that Queen will be touring in 2005, with Paul Rodgers slipping neatly into Freddie's exotic slippers. While I am sure there will be silver-haired Queen purists who have already started to pen letters of loathing - though quite who they will send them to, I don't know - I have to state that, for once, commonsense appears to prevail. Paul Rodgers is one of the few frontmen on Earth capable of filling that vacant spot and, of course, he will bring with him a raft of classic material of his own, from his days in Free and Bad Company. Could anyone be so perfect? His awesome black voice appears undiminished by passing years and how many singers can genuinely claim to be looking better now than 30 years ago? Mind you, when in Free, he did look like the kind of student who would run the Tolkien Club at college in Sunderland and own a collection of Gentle Giant albums. No more. He has even managed to survive being horribly stigmatised when Tony Blair acknowledged him as his favourite rock singer! Oh how he must have expected his fortunes to plummet at that point. But no. Even making his debut Queen appearance at that dreadful 'UK Music Hall of Fame' hasn't harmed him.

I couldn't be happier. I am fortunate enough to have first hand experience of a man blessed with an affability not normally associated with rock stars. I was a microphone wielding geek from a downbeat rock radio station when, noticing my nerves, he settled me down in the corner of the bar at Manchester's Piccadilly Hotel and gave me an unprecedented two hour interview, during which he explained to me that the chorus of 'All Right Now' had been written on the spur of the moment during a live performance and was never intended to be anything other than a dodgy set filler. No doubt it will soon compete with the best of Queen for the climactic moment of the 2005 tour.