Don’t let Keith Richard’s fibs fool you. Perpetuating the myth that he dreamt up the riff for (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction might be his idea of fun, but it’s a cruel trick, and it’s misleading bands everywhere.
Make no mistake, the rise of the Stones, or any other band, hasn’t been down to dumb luck, buzzed dreams or cyphers from the other side. Ask any artist, in any ‘creative field’ and they’ll tell you the same.
It’s about gigging non-stop for audiences that barely care, contacting endless, heartless bloggers who might simply delete your email after only reading two sentences, and refinement, refinement, refinement.
An awkward truth but look: Django Django work their socks off. They gig here, there and everywhere; they write and record neat, chop-n-change songs; and they’re still unsigned.
But just listen to Wor. Just listen to the rockabilly pop, just listen to the way the song builds, teases, gives-and-takes and finally bursts forth. You’re hearing the sound of focus and whittling. The sound of sweat, arguments and roadies misplacing Fuzzboxes.
The sound of temptation to quit and deciding to carry on. The sound of exhilaration when it all goes right, or at the least the promise thereof.
Django Django will make it. They have to. They deserve it.