Django Django head toward a town that might never have existed on Doveland, an album about the things we remember, the people we lose, and the difficulty of knowing what to hold onto.

The title comes from an online urban legend about a vanished Midwestern town. There are no maps to confirm its existence, yet people reportedly remember living there, some even claiming to possess souvenirs. For Django Django, that strange intersection of memory and imagination provides the starting point for their sixth studio album, a collection shaped by grief and the temporary nature of human connection.

For a band whose musical curiosity regularly sends it bouncing between psychedelic pop, electronics, and the dance floor, Doveland represents a change in pace and perspective. Following the sprawling electronic explorations of 2023’s Off Planet, the quartet brings guitars, piano, and voices closer to the center, with strings, brass, and woodwinds adding detail. The arrangements give these songs room to address subjects that don’t necessarily arrive with easy answers.

To make the record, David Maclean, Vincent Neff, Jimmy Dixon, and Tommy Grace retreated to the German countryside, working with former Franz Ferdinand guitarist Nick McCarthy and composer and producer Polly Ester. That setting suits an album concerned with distance, reflection, and the pull of places that remain vivid long after we leave them. Across its 12 tracks, Doveland brings the band’s imagination into closer contact with lived experience.

The emotional stakes become clear on opener “Meteorite,” written by Dixon following his father’s death. “Year Of The Snake” approaches loss from another deeply personal direction, with Maclean reflecting on the death of his sister. These experiences give the album’s elusive destination a human dimension: the search for somewhere unreachable can also mean wanting another conversation, another afternoon, or another moment with someone who is gone.

There is movement and release here, too. “Cameos” and “Dirty Hotel Blues” supply a rhythmic lift, while Hak Baker joins the band on “Little Me.” Closing track “Feel Alright,” featuring Max Pope, brings in gospel-style backing vocals and steers the record toward a more hopeful finish. Sadness informs Doveland, but it doesn’t dictate every turn.

The town behind Doveland may be impossible to locate, but the questions that draw Django Django toward it are familiar. How much of the past can we trust? What do we carry forward? And how do we keep moving when something essential is missing? Those questions give this imaginary place a reason to feel like somewhere we’ve been.