Home boys Bicycle Thieves do good – no, really good – as Dubai Sound City sheik’s into action.
Dubai. World of wonder, enterprise and excess. Like a fairground designed from Patrick Bateman’s powder-coated notepad, everything’s bigger and brasher than you can possibly imagine.
Bold Street this aint. So, why do we feel remarkably at home?
It probably helps that everytime you turn round there’s someone grinning ear to ear with an ‘alright, la,’ greeting.
The Scouse invasion is officially on. So when we park our arse atop of the mini knoll at the back of the Irish Village mainstage it comes as little surprise that we’re welcoming in the day to the sounds of one of our own.
What does come as a surprise is quite how loud, and indeed spectacular, The Bicycle Thieves actually are.
Like being slapped round the face by one of those fishes, we’re slapped round the chops by the dual guitars and thumped in the belly by driving, relentless rhythm.
What it says on the forthcoming press releases won’t do justice. Almost inevitably Tom Hammersley‘s low-end rumble will draw comparisons with Paul Bank‘s baritone while their bleak gothic tapestry isn’t too dissimilar from Interpol‘s sinister drone. But Bicycle Thieves
are so much more than a lowgrade Joy Division. Hey, the world doesn’t need another Editors.
No, this is cinematic and riddled with drama. They save the best til last adding washes of keys and a raw extended finale that’s cold edge clashes with the blazing sun overhead.
We may be a world away from Bold Street, but already we’re feeling right at home.
* Picture by Mark McNulty