R&B Alchemist Dijon Sends London A Wall Of Textured Sound: Live Review

Dijon, live at Brixton Academy. Image credit: Rory Barnes

Unfortunately, his audience wasn’t always invested in his experiments.

Ambling across the stage in a purple anorak, flanked in a loose semi-circle by a cluster of musicians, Dijon pitches up at the mic stand. It’s clear he’s not asking to be treated with the fanfare of a Grammy-nominated producer — earned for his hand in Justin Bieber's 2025 surprise drop album.

It’s that, plus a creative, boundary-pushing approach to R&B that has since expanded to electronic rock, lo-fi pop and ever-more hybrid genres, which has earned Dijon Duenas a (huge) cult following, perfectly timed for the release of his own breakthrough body of work last year, ‘Baby’. 

The second of two sold-out nights at Brixton Academy, the American looks at home in front of his London audience – quite literally. The set-up is intentionally minimal, resembling a garage session or an NPR Tiny Desk fit out, with no visual or other effects. Behind the amps and no-frills lighting rigs, an expansive stage in darkness, which Dijon does not see the need to fill. It mimics his organic production style, as though he’d be up there jamming with his mates whether or not an audience was listening. And unfortunately, sometimes it does feel like they’re not.

Dijon’s live set was a textural experiment in sound from an exceptionally talented, innovative craftsman, that didn’t always seem to receive the attention it deserved. Read our full review below.

Dijon, performing at Brixton Academy. Image credit: Rory Barnes

Clutching his microphone like it holds the stories of the lyrics poured into it, Dijon’s vocals are grit on ice; a razor through silk. There’s a biting, deeply satisfying grain to his smooth sound that scratches ears in the best way. Blending and distorting an array of instruments and electronic sounds, Dijon has carved an organic live show that feels representative of its roots in bedrooms, outside boxes.

Warming up a dark January like a smooth whiskey, his voice remains the central vessel for his music’s depth, and truthfully the performance would have been just as enjoyable (if less thought-provoking) had he shared the stage with a guitar alone. Yet, his band spotlight and support like one perfectly oiled machine, with the exception of the drummer, melded into his kit. His enthusiasm, spooling out over the speakers and integral to the rhythm so central to Dijon’s sound, is especially potent in ‘Yamaha’ and the sharp punches of ‘The Dress’ – two tracks which see most movement on the floor.

Chatter between songs is minimal; a quick shout-out to Big Ben earning extra whoops. Dijon’s crew seem indifferent to the cheers, almost as if an audience were a distraction to their session. But for all his embedded cool, he is not without visible and spoken gratitude.

“Dijon’s vocals are grit on ice; a razor through silk. There’s a biting, deeply satisfying grain to his smooth sound that scratches ears in the best way. Blending and distorting an array of instruments and electronic sounds, Dijon has carved an organic live show that feels representative of its roots in bedrooms, outside boxes.”

There’s an ‘urbanness’ to songs like ‘Talk Down’ that veers towards the industrial. When pulled off, it’s fantastic and fascinating, like watching an exhibition that explores the limits of a commercial band sound. There’s no spectacle here. Dijon and his posse are switched on but chilled out, offering a peek behind the curtain at the most deconstructed version of their musicmaking.

There are also parts where the experimentalism starts to feel more like a soundcheck, and it’s a little lost on the audience. Here, the intentional moments of quiet are talked over, the instruments’ sounds are stretched and swamped, and the gig loses momentum. When it sounds more like the band are warming up, they’re treated with the same half-attention as a support act.

And perhaps there’s two sides to this story. Maybe it’s unreasonable to expect a Friday night crowd to offer Dijon and his ensemble the time and space to extend these songs beyond their studio confines, and push them to the boundaries of what’s palatable. The middle part of the set begins to feel a little too raw, a little too unpolished, to keep the crowd hooked. But then, perhaps it’s also the duty of an audience to offer an artist scope to indulge fully in their craft. Repeated screams for ‘Baby!’ and other hits which shot Dijon’s music to Grammy-level acclaim were grating and ungracious. 

“Dijon’s Brixton set on Friday night presents an interesting take on what live music should be, asking what audiences should offer and expect of artists — and what artists should offer and expect of them.”

The crowd has come for a party, it seems. And they are given it eventually. ‘Kinda Love’ leading into a loose encore takes the lid off the band’s restraint shown in favour of technical prowess, and the audience lean into the opportunity for a dance and a singalong.

Dijon’s Brixton set on Friday night presents an interesting take on what live music should be, asking what audiences should offer and expect of their artists – and what artists should offer and expect of them.

Catch Dijon back in June supporting Zach Bryan around the UK.

Dijon Duenas sending Brixton a ‘wall of textured sound’. Image credit: Rory Barnes