It may have been a dank English night out, but in the hands of Washed Out, Concorde 2 was pure California – a hazy, nostalgic kind, where hip chicks and cool dudes mellow out in a pot fug around a midnight campfire on the beach.
Purveyors of dreamy 1980s-style pop, the band played their well-penned cinematic teen anthems, splurged with reverb and splashes of cool synthage, with panache.
While the less initiated might find them astounding, it felt a bit like being on the set for a remake of Pretty In Pink but without the angst or the hormones.
The influences were just too obvious. Sometimes it was Simple Minds, sometimes A-ha and, God forbid, sometimes even Phil Collins.
A song hook would get lost in the psychedelic lite wooze and, worst of all, there were just too many of those EastEnders-style tom rolls, played entirely without irony.
Way back when, even A Flock Of Seagulls managed a little bit of menace, although that could have been the hair.
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