When Edinburgh’s Django Django were named a Strictly New Band favourite last week we foresaw a bright future. “Defualt”, “WOR” and “Waveforms” were are startlingly infectious and supremely intricate creations. They suggest a band with a serious intellect, a sharp wit, and a knack for subversive hooks. They were merely the tip of the iceberg.
Django Django’s self titled debut only ups the ante, as the band continue to blend Super Fury Animal’s psychedelia with Hot Chip’s impetuously engaging arrangements. Similar to Hot Chip, “Hands Of Love” and “Love Dart” dare the listener to disregard them, to dismiss them as lightweight and ironic, while the slick melodies and understated emotions devastatingly claw at your subconscious. Django Django lure their audience into a false sense of light hearted security, numbing our inherent cynicism, and leaving our heartstrings entirely defenceless.
The end product is an album that can be intensely poignant one moment, and utterly irreverent the next. The sheer quality of the craftsmanship never abates, whether it’s electronic waterfalls, spaghetti westerns, surf guitars or winding Egyptian riffs, Django Django just make it work. Vibrancy is the word, this band and this record, are alive with a genuine sense of enthusiasm. Excitement waits around every corner. There’s a wonderful naivety to lyricism that makes unflinchingly precise numbers like “Storm” sound freeform, adventurous and utterly endearing.
Django Django is an early album of the year contender; other bands might make better records and may mean more to music as a whole, but no one will sound this fresh, this unpredictable and this legitimately exciting. David Hayter