We’re all (grand)dancing around the blatantly obvious, really. ‘The Price’, the first single from Dappled Cities’ forthcoming third album Zounds, sounds like The Killers. Like, a lot. Like, totally. Put down the pitchfork and bear with me, kids. I can explain.

Remember when Flowers and co. had the balance between bacchanalian LA glam and mordant English miserabilism right? When they copped from the Smiths and New Order? And when, for the briefest, indulgent moment you gave yourself over to the sheer exhilarating thrill of a band making bombastic technicolour pop in widescreen?

Dappled Cities make that kind of play for the big game on ‘The Price’. It’s apparent from the start, when the throb of the distorted bass gives way to swooning, seasick strings and the dance-rock rhythm that’s been irritating in its ubiquity for the last few years. But here it’s all done bereft of a desire for imitation and with a clear-eyed focus on function.

In truth, they’ve never been too far removed from this world. The minor choppy guitar moves and murky indie production employed over their last two records were just duplicitous methods of keeping the cred kids and critics happy. And we obliged, kindly invoking Grandaddy as the reference point out of generosity when all signs pointed to the fact that maybe, just maybe, there was an early Simple Minds record lurking in DC’s basement.

Some things haven’t changed and, for all the big-game moves they pull, Dave Rennick’s penchant for lyrical obfuscation has survived the escalation to contender status. Confusing images of eyes, toes and an unnamed quest all disappear when he sells it down the river for the first time at 1.30, summoning a deep, sonorous vocal to intone: “The price we pay to look the other way/When I’m right here beside you.”

Is it about broken hearts? Or broken bank balances? With a song this immaculate it doesn’t matter. In lesser hands all of this might sound like absurd drama. Here, Dappled Cities are ready for their close-up.

by JP Hammond