The line between hip and irritating is thin.

But once a year The Great Escape comes around, with its industry bods using music as an excuse for a jolly by the sea, and the divide is easier to navigate.

Then up pops an act on all the tastemakers’ lips and off you toddle, to reassess your prejudices.

Django Django are four former art school boys who always make an effort (here they went for ironic 1970s office wear).

On stage they had a giant tambourine you could get around your waist and in the groovy Casio-cum-Afro-rave Skies Over Cairo there was a fullband drum breakdown.

While sirens swirled around the room during closing track WOR, part Dick Dale, part 1960s jangle, I’m pretty sure synth-man Tommy – who wears giant plastic glasses that make him impossible to take seriously – swung a lampshade around his head.

Earlier in the set his synth had exploded, but bassman Jimmy Dixon assured everything would be OK, “He loves doing puzzles,” he jibed.

Tommy did what he had to do, but the band are no technical wizards. Their strength is imagination – and most importantly, they have a sound that’s their own.

Storming opener Hail Bop, a galloping mish-mash of proggy Kraut and bright 1960s guitars, might evoke a little of The Dandy Warhols (let’s hope it’s never used to sell mobile phones) and Vinny and Jimmy’s harmonies remind of the Beta Band. But right now they are out there on their own.