If dance music is currently enduring recession, the French duo Justice have weathered it by making their music as dramatic as many of the rock bands whom they clearly adore. Thanks to the darkening skies above the courtyard of Somerset House, their arrival here was no exception. And if the gathering stormclouds didn't create a sufficiently ominous ambience, Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay wasted no time in upping the sense of portent. They switched on their ever-present flourescent cross and released a fanfare of digitised, Old Testament-style string music. Had Charlton Heston in full Moses garb abseiled into the courtyard with an urgent Tablet strapped to his back, the opening chords of Genesis couldn't have picked a better moment to reveal themselves.

The kinetic energy of that initial push kept our spirits airborne long enough to ensure that there was enough goodwill to lavish upon what immediately followed. Quite what the tousled, dishevelled Augé and de Rosnay were doing behind the wall of Marshall stacks and flashing red lights was unclear, but many of the songs taken from last year's debut album - simply titled - adhered to a formula which, written down, resembled little more than a children's brain teaser: Question, if you start with bass drum sound and two squelchy arpeggiating synth noises, then add a vocal sample but remove the keyboards, before piling the whole lot back in again with extra disco hi-hat and funk bass, what are you left with? (Answer: if the man dancing in the raised disabled enclosure waving his walking stick in the air was anything to go by, a miracle.)

As the set progressed it became apparent that a lot of the good feeling was down to people's determination to enjoy themselves on a wet Friday night. Much of the running in Justice's career has been predicated on strong visuals. Last year their video for D.A.N.C.E. was nominated for Video of the Year at the MTV Awards. The year before the duo's break- through hit We are Your Friends won the award outright.

At Somerset House a large gap on stage symbolised the absence of any spectacle. It wouldn't have taken much to remedy the problem. In the face of such a communal desire to have fun, Justice's budget could have surely stretched to a video screen, or some sort of arty Hoxton-esque “installation”; maybe a guest vocalist.

By way of mitigation Augé finally emerged from behind his equipment and attempted to rouse the canopy of raised umbrellas for an extended version of We are Your Friends. But what exactly were Augé and de Rosnay being cheered for beyond turning up and having made the records in the first place? If truth be told, it wasn't altogether clear.

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