The moment I first heard Django Django, I knew they were going to fill a special place in my heart - replacing Franz Ferdinand during an extended hiatus. It wasn't until I saw this gig that I found out how right my first instincts were.
No offense to the venue's many fanboys and girls, but the 9:30 Club has never been my favorite venue for a gig. It is a long up-and-back drive for me (6-8 hours RT), expensive and sometimes difficult to park at, not in the greatest part of town, and always full of... I think they're called hipsters now? I don't keep up with cultural trends, merely what I like, so I assume that's what everyone there in wingtip shoes and spending more time tweeting than watching the band was.
Anyways, to the point, it was a late show so we finally got there after the opening act ended (I had my rock loving old lady, i.e. mother, in tow) and amazingly found decent spots in the balcony. Once Django Django came on I realized why it had been so empty: everyone wanted to dance, and boy it was music to dance to. The whole gig, the old line of Franz Ferdinand's kept going through my head ("we just wanted to make music for girls to dance to") as I swayed along a little in the cramped upper deck.
The three Scottish and one Irish bandmates had boundless energy, and the songs on their debut self-titled album I had listened to on repeat came to life. At first, I had thought them hard to take serious in matching suits and hairstyles, but they were every bit as professional and talented as I had hoped. They played their album, and finally when they ran out of songs, apologized for not having more and said they were so happy they had been received so well that they would be back when they had written more songs.
Though the lads in the band aren't Hansen brothers cute, they have UK charm, and I was surprised to see how few women were at the concert. The ones I did see there were either in gaggles drinking together, or hanging in boredom off the arm of guys who wanted to dance. In retrospective, I believe Django Django was the most male-centric crowd I have ever been in.
After the gig, my companion and I alone got to chat briefly with half of the band, and I learned of an interesting connection between them and Franz, besides the fact that they are both Scottish. Out on the streets of D.C. the guys blended into the hipster boys and I almost would've missed them myself, had it not been for the tip of a kind 9:30 employee. The two of four that we met were quite exemplary of good band "customer service" as I like to call it, and I was glad they could spare some of their time. What a great show, I can't wait to see Django Django again.
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