lunchfoki.blogg.se

Basically, their press release, which they penned themselves, is gibberish: "The triple distilled essence (and sensibility) of an artistic huddle of mischievous musicals," is how they describe themselves, going on to extol the virtues of their songs, those "rollicking along sing-a-longs, galloping into disco sunsets like whisky-addled and leather-saddled bandits on the stolen backs of prairie wild mustangs." Yes, well, cheers for that. In fact, it's quite tricky to explain quite what it is that Django Django do, which is good, because it suggests they're doing something a little bit different.Įven the band can't quite get a handle on what it is they're up to. The emphasis is on cadence, although they're not heavy on the electronics, either – punk-funk or electro-dance this is not.

The four-piece, who met at art school in Edinburgh and now live in fashionable east London, don't sound very Belgian or jazzy, and the guitars keep a low profile, too. But anyway, here comes another: Django Django, so-called after one of Django Reinhardt's teachers, who had a terrible stutter and always struggled with the Belgian jazz guitar legend's name when he called the register (or possibly not). And we notice that there hasn't been a BWATRWATT, an acronym you can almost use as an obscure slur, since the 80s, which might say something meaningful about the profligate mentality of that decade.

The background: Bands with a twice-repeated word as their title are always worth a punt: Duran Duran, Talk Talk, Bourgie Bourgie.