M83

M83's new record is unashamedly inspired by and devoted to the 1980s, a 1980s that didn't exist for most: tearing around on a motorbike in a tuxedo, getting off with Ally Sheedy at the prom, inventing Kelly Le Brock on your ZX Spectrum . . .

There's certainly a school disco feel to their set, though — transplanted from LA — it takes place in a leaky, cavernous, booming church hall in Minehead where, you imagine, the young parishioners have had an ecumenical dispute about the purpose of the Apocrypha. It's not M83's fault the ambience is not one of cool sex, it's just that it's Friday afternoon, it's light outside, and most people are still arriving.

Anthony Gonzalez's nonchalant Parisian sophisti-pop outfit is as cool and nonchalant as your next nonchalant Parisian sophisti-pop outfit; it's just strangely very un-ATP. The disappointment feels a bit like going to the prom with Andrew McCarthy, and waking up drunk being fingered by Harry Dean Stanton.

JA