Dijon's electrifying performance at Brixton Academy showcased his genre-bending soundscapes that blend lo-fi R&B with electronic prog rock. The US singer-songwriter took the stage as if clutching the mic for life, completely absorbed in the sounds surrounding him. His setup was a marvel of ambition, featuring a vast array of synthesizers, a live kit, electric guitar and bass, a violin, and backing vocals.
The setlist was an impressive 21 songs in two hours, played with reckless abandon that bordered on joyous jamming. The music veered wildly from the bedroom R&B of his debut album to the experimental pop sensibilities of Baby. Dijon's eclecticism knew no bounds, blending influences like King Krule meets Simon and Garfunkel, with a live banjo and tambourine adding a folk touch.
At times, however, the sheer density of sound threatened to overwhelm, and a run of seven songs in the middle started to feel mundane. But just when it seemed like the show was dragging on, stagecraft kicked in, with smoke carpetsing the stage and lights dimming for the first time. The guitarists took up synth pads, conjuring an eerie futurist soundscape that swelled and collapsed in grungy chords.
The music took a darker turn with industrial sounds incorporated into the rhythm section of TV Blues and Talk Down, creating a glutted sonic atmosphere. Yamaha, Automatic, and Kindalove closed out the show like a triumphant 1980s prom, but the pièce de résistance was Dijon himself, hanging off his mic in the now-familiar silhouette, lit by a single spotlight as he delivered an encore track that was both hauntingly beautiful and sonically rich.
Overall, Dijon's performance elevated his discography to another plane, transforming it into a fearless auteur's vision. The show was a masterclass in sonic experimentation, with Dijon's unwavering passion and dedication to his craft leaving the audience – and even himself – breathless.
The setlist was an impressive 21 songs in two hours, played with reckless abandon that bordered on joyous jamming. The music veered wildly from the bedroom R&B of his debut album to the experimental pop sensibilities of Baby. Dijon's eclecticism knew no bounds, blending influences like King Krule meets Simon and Garfunkel, with a live banjo and tambourine adding a folk touch.
At times, however, the sheer density of sound threatened to overwhelm, and a run of seven songs in the middle started to feel mundane. But just when it seemed like the show was dragging on, stagecraft kicked in, with smoke carpetsing the stage and lights dimming for the first time. The guitarists took up synth pads, conjuring an eerie futurist soundscape that swelled and collapsed in grungy chords.
The music took a darker turn with industrial sounds incorporated into the rhythm section of TV Blues and Talk Down, creating a glutted sonic atmosphere. Yamaha, Automatic, and Kindalove closed out the show like a triumphant 1980s prom, but the pièce de résistance was Dijon himself, hanging off his mic in the now-familiar silhouette, lit by a single spotlight as he delivered an encore track that was both hauntingly beautiful and sonically rich.
Overall, Dijon's performance elevated his discography to another plane, transforming it into a fearless auteur's vision. The show was a masterclass in sonic experimentation, with Dijon's unwavering passion and dedication to his craft leaving the audience – and even himself – breathless.