Django Django

Django Django

From the opening hum of crickets and distant, pulsing electronics to the tribal drums that manically pound in the background,

Django Django’s debut album opens with an eclectic and varying sense of experimentation.

The following album is then a continuing tropical fusion of electronics, leftfield pop and warped, twisted melodies,

Django Django often sounding like a super group made up of Super Furry Animals and Animal Collective.

What’s most clever about it is how inclussive it remains, perpetually experimental without risking

alienation and endlessly addictive without appearing saccharine – everything a pop record should be.

Stylistically, it dips and weaves, continually moving, shaping and evolving as it plays, from the manic and agitated (‘Skies Over Cairo’) to the reserved,

folky and delicate (‘Hand of Man’). And yet for all its varying styles, fusions and consistently moving cadences,

this is a thorough and focused work that flows with an aquatic sense of coherence and consistency. A glorious debut album.

Speaking of which, we’re treated to a whole Dickens-inspired ‘Eleanor Rigby’ music video, which, I kid you not, lasts for half an hour.

Even if you really like Eleanor Rigby (which I don’t) you wouldn’t want to listen to a 30 minute version of the song with ’80s production,

especially not if it is accompanied by Paul McCartney pratting about in a stove pipe hat.

What on earth was he smoking when he thought this was a good idea? (Oh wait… never mind.)

Finally, thankfully, we come to the end of the film. We find out that Harry was stuck in a shed at Broad Street train station the whole time,

having mistaken it for a toilet (literally a shit ending to the film)

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