My man Daley strides onto stage in front of a large venue sparingly filled with fans who are here to hear the band after his, or the band after that. Standing on the bottom rung of the rock-and-roll ladder tonight, Theft hasn’t even had the luxury of a sound check. And they haven’t been together all that long. But they’re here now, fueled with great songs, the confidence of the powers-that-be, and the hope that their instruments will in fact make noise when played. A quick ‘hey, everyone!’, the drumsticks click, and they’re off.