Sixteen years! Sixteen years we waited for that eclipse, and what did we get? Sure, it was an excuse to get out of work and stare at the clouds for a bit, but for all that hype of an awe-inspiring natural phenomena – all that talk of inspiring the next generation of scientists – when all you can see outside is grey skies, you can’t help feeling just a little bit miffed.
Enter Django Django. Since their self-titled debut, we’ve had to wait a burning three years for their return. Before their debut album emerged, Django Django never attracted the all-consuming sandstorm of hype their music demands.
Never mind the eclipse - crowds will gaze up in wonder at Django Django.
But if you were worried that Mercury Prize nomination had gone to their heads – that they’d sold out for an easier ride - you couldn’t be more wrong. Django Django are never a band to dumb down; we’re still running to keep up. It may have been three years, but there’s no apologetic, mild-mannered interlude to ease you back in - and we wouldn’t want it any other way. But that’s not to say they shy away from the big-hitters.
Opener ‘Giant’ struts in with enough sassiness to stifle Beyonce, but that’s about as commercial as it gets. The album plunges head first into the swirling psychedelic myriad of Django Django, and it doesn’t let you off the ride for the next eleven tracks. Swinging from the scintillating and flashing kaleidoscope of ‘Reflections’ - to the lethargic mirage of ‘Beginning to Fade’ - ‘Born Under Saturn’ is a record so vivid it threatens to become visual. Never mind the eclipse - crowds will gaze up in wonder at Django Django.