When we speak, in awe, or in horror, of 1980s pop and fashion, we really mean a very brief interlude fizzling out somewhere in mid-decade. Duran Duran remind us of that time more than any other band - they were seriously glam at their peak (models, yachts and big hair were de rigueur even for a quiet night in) but always straining for credibility and never quite finding it. Almost 20 years after that heyday - although with only two members of the original line-up and a marked absence of boats, beauties and bouffants - they are still with us.
The evening's first full-flung bit of nostalgia is the recollection, as Simon Le Bon shouts his way through New Moon on Monday, of the weakness of his singing voice. Packed into a tight-fitting sleeveless white top that screams 1982 but not in a nice way, he sings flatly, breathlessly, unable to hold the key notes.
None of this is helped by a clumsy-oaf stage persona. Trying to do a rock'n'roll leap from a very low-level amp, he trips and goes flying. In another rock-star gesture - mike-stand twirling - he knocks the whole thing over. In between he cavorts, dances badly, punches the air, stoops to pick up some red roses and a pair of black undies, thrown by an adoring crowd. Lots of women take photographs of him, presumably to put on their biscuit tins for those moments of temptation.
In the corner, twiddling with synthy knobs, is Nick Rhodes, still sporting David Sylvian's old haircut and lashings of scary Goth make-up. They make an odd couple, especially during Hallucinating Elvis, one of the more painful parts of the evening. With a backdrop of virtual-reality projections in which the King comes among us, Le Bon adds a silver shirt and Brains glasses to his ensemble, presumably wanting to look like an Elvis impersonator. He doesn't; he looks like Les Gray, erstwhile lead singer with Mud, while Rhodes has something of Andy Warhol about him in certain lights. It is like being stuck in a really giddy episode of Stars in their Eyes.
Except that this tour clearly has a much smaller budget. It's the cheapness of the proceedings that really pulls you up, marks the time that has passed between the days of that video for Rio and now. The screen on which they show arty videos and the cyber-Elvis is a big crinkled sheet; they have no backing singers, only perky female voices on tape. As a big finale they kick a few balloons into the audience in a forlorn, underwhelming gesture. They get kicked back.
All that saves the night from being convincing evidence on which to ban nostalgia (this thought does present itself as Le Bon high-kicks during their cover of White Lines) is that when they stick to their most simple pop creations - Girls on Film, Ordinary World, Save a Prayer and Rio - they can still endear. But when they get rocky and pretentious (Playing with Uranium) or the vocals get beyond Le Bon (Hungry Like a Wolf), it all becomes a very convincing case for living in the here and now, instead of looking back.
Duran Duran play the Apollo, Manchester (0161-242 2560) tonight, the NEC Birmingham (0121-780 4133) on Thursday, then tour.
