Just as the Django Django concert Tuesday night at Power Center really got going, it was over.

Counting a one-song encore that seemed more of an afterthought (the lights had already come up and people were leaving when the band came back), the whole show clocked in at one shortish hour.

Maybe an hour was all they were contracted to do. Maybe they were disappointed the show didn’t sell better, and cut out early (there was mention of checking out the pubs in “Ann Harbor”). Or maybe that’s all folks get nowadays for $20-$25 a ticket. At any rate, the main floor center section was just semi-full, a handful of people were in the flanking sections and the balcony appeared empty. The Ann Arbor Summer Festival presented the show.

Django Django is a mostly Scottish rock quartet that’s been making a lot of noise in Europe. The band’s sound is as if 1960s surf guitar master Dick Dale suddenly found himself in the midst of Kraftwerk’s early electronica, and then tripped over some 1980s New Order and maybe some 1990s techno. With bird song and sirens mixed in here and there. Although it sounds like it shouldn't work, it actually does.

Singer and guitarist Vincent Neff may have been front and center with his monotone-ish vocals, but it was the percussion and synthesizers that stood out, at least volumewise. Drummer and producer David Maclean and synth player Tommy Grace worked themselves into a frenzy behind their respective instruments (I counted six keyboards at Maclean’s station). Such was the mix, I sometimes forgot that talented bassist Jimmy Dixon was in the house as well.

The thing is, Django Django was loud. Really loud. Maybe too loud for Power Center. Since the show was open seating, I started out in row three. I was warned by an usher that people would probably be dancing in front of the stage, and maybe I should move back a few rows if I wanted to be able to see better.

So I did. The band started, and after two songs I moved back. Then back more. Then as far to the rear as was physically possible. The sound was still so loud I was able to make out just the occasional lyric (maybe part of it was the Scottish accent), but overall, it was better. Here I was positioned so I could see folks - mostly older - abandoning ship, maybe because of the volume, or maybe because they realized the band had nothing to do with the music of the late European jazz guitar legend Django Reinhardt.

More people would probably have soaked up the sound better, and possibly prevented some of the annoying slapback that can happen at Power when amplified percussion bounces off the concrete walls

Out of the first few songs the only one I was able to pick out of vocal haze was “Firewater.” Just when I though all hope for clarity was lost, as one song seemed to blend into another that sounded just about the same, the band launched into the show’s two clear standouts, “Life’s A Beach” and “WOR,” with the Dick Dale-style guitars and catchier riffs. Then it was over.

There were a couple of upsides, however, to getting out at 9:06 p.m. Top of the Park was still in full swing, and those so inclined could get home in plenty of time to watch “The Voice” and find out the fate of former local Michelle Chamuel. Maybe that’s where everyone was, parked in front of their TVs.

No matter where they were, they may have been disappointed.