You know Justice, AKA Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Auge. French duo, remixed Simian to create the titanic 'We Are Your Friends', the anthem-that-will-not-die, the iceberg tune (big on top, massive underneath) that's wrecked dancefloors from backstage Glasto to Trash to Euro-resorts and back again. That's still rippling across radio airwaves as I t- t- t- type. You know Justice. Groovy Parisians, rerubbed Franz Ferdinand and Britney Spears ('her vocal was the best a capella we ever heard. She is not a faker. It is not by chance that she is a big pop star') and Mystery Jets and Fatboy Slim, blew the wheels off club culture then welded them back on upside down. Don't wear robot masks.
Justice, on the other hand, don't really know Justice. They got here by mistake. They are accidental heroes. They didn't mean to become genius producers. They don't know what they're doing. That's why they're so good at doing what they're doing. Way back when - like, four or five fast years ago - Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Auge were two graphic designers. 'In Paris everybody is a graphic designer, or a DJ,' says Xavier, socio-pithily, 'and wearing a leather jacket and having straight hair. In all our friends, 60 are graphic designers and the rest are doing electronic music.'
For the first three years of Justice's existence, the pair based themselves in Xavier's bedroom. They signed to discerning Paris label Ed Banger and released an EP, Waters Of Nazareth, the title track a big, fuzzy-feedbacky monster of disco-blippery. They were making it up as they went along.
Xavier: ‘Between making We Are Your Friends and Waters Of Nazareth, there was the discovery of new tools to make music - the computer and the things you can make with it. The Apple Mac, this is our main progress.'
For their debut album Justice decided they needed to escape Xavier's bedroom. They rented a cheap basement in the centre of Paris, fixed it up a little, and installed what kit they had. Gaspard: 'Basic equipment. Really, really basic. We made this album with equipment that everyone can afford, can find easily. We don't have enough knowledge of sound engineering and things to use really fancy equipment. That's what makes it exciting for us - just to do music without really knowing how to do it.' And Lord, what excitement Justice serve up on their debut album. Genesis kicks things off with a big fat squelch, before Let There Be Light hovers into view like Jean Michel Jarre piloting that huge fuck-off UFO in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind. Justice insist they won't be offended at comparisons with the knob-twiddling maestro of French synth-fromage.
'He was a pioneer in making electronic pop records,' says Gaspard. 'Even if he was bad taste we like the comparison.' ‘This tune was made with old and cheap analogue synthesisers,' says Xavier.