A Duran Duran victory lap at Hyde Park reminds us why they outlasted the sneers

For a band that offered (not one but) two fantastical escapes from the drear of 80s Britain via a solid platform of quality sing-along tunes from singles-laden albums, this always seemed mean-spirited. Was it fantastical escape number 1 that grated: high-fashion, yachts, linen, and men looking good in tight white trousers? Or was it fantastical escape number 2 that irked: a post-apocalyptic (or was it steam-punk, or out-dated sci-fi – it was never clear) world of shoulder pads, diagonal zips, leather, and water wheels? The escape worlds were held together by those quality keyboard-driven tunes and hair spray, and also the sneer of the music press.

The Duran Duran we get today at Hyde Park is the version that persevered and made it to Yacht World, but there’s still plenty to interest us plebs.

A quick word on British Summer Time. It’s the series of summer concerts in London’s Hyde Park that replaced the old Wireless Festival. Well-organised, relaxed, it attracts big (some might say “safe”) names with plenty of options for food, drink, and accessibility (including an in-vision BSL signer on-screen). Today, 2xDuran are back with Groove Armada, Nile Rodgers and (not really) Chic, and the Scissor Sisters; this is self-evidently a well-wrought-and-thought line-up, with only the blistering heat checking the enthusiasm on display.

Mr Rodgers and “Chic” having finally secured his/their place in the canon are well-drilled and pleasing. The songs you want to hear? They do those. Interesting that Scissor Sisters, now a long way from electroclash and a little way from their original shock, have almost morphed into that old forgotten glory: the All-American Good Time Band. Mini-hoedowns spring up, chins and elbows jut, middle-aged heads catch a whiff of Little Feat and bob.

Back to the Durans who fill the stage nicely in their various guises, opening with a crystal clear "Is There Something I Should Know?" (you know, “Please, please tell me now…” etc). Simon Le Bon is in fine voice, the band are playing their instruments, the backing-singers are fairly low down in the mix; all good signs.

John Taylor shows us how far good cheekbones will get you (far) and arrives tonight dressed as 1977. He looks great with a bass, has made a red artist’s smock look Punk, and manages to exude both cool and decency. Cheekbones.

Second in, "A View To A Kill" comes far too early for this Roger-Moore-period reviewer. The slash of its syth still sounds so Bond, so dangerous, Le Bon’s rising angst from verse to chorus is enough to make you gasp. And, with due respect, the cameras pick out keyboard-meister Nick Rhodes, who, peaky at the hair and shoulders, still looks like the only member of DD you’d find with an arc-welder or doing a spot of alchemy.

That strange “othery” early 80s band appears tonight peaking out mainly through Rhodes’s sweeps or Le Bon’s often gloriously liminal vocals. “Hungry Like the Wolf”, “New Moon on Monday”, “The Reflex” (although shorn of the whoosh into the chorus), “Planet Earth”, and “Wild Boys” all have that disquieting Moviedrome edge where nightmares were more engaging than reality. You could hear it on Nik Kershaw’s singles, Doctor Doctor had it, the Bunnymen honed it, Depeche Mode took it through to Violator, Donnie Darko was the film to capture it. What is it?

“Ordinary World” sadly doesn’t have it but it’s the D-Boys most played track, the crowd swoons with appreciation tonight, so who cares that an over-analysing hack thinks it only “quite good”. And to be fair, not caring about hacks has served the band well, keeping them moving forwards. A new single, "Free To Love", airs tonight and it is inclusive, light, frothy, danceable and, for now, forgettable. Fine.

If there’s anything that really jars, it’s the stock-in-trade gyrations of the all-female dance troupe who get wheeled out in straight-jackets (erk), leotards (hmm), stockings and suspenders (really?). The iciness of “The Chauffeur” from Le Bon and Rhodes is great. Is it improved by the girl-near-girl action? One supposes this is all part of the logical realisation of the boys-will-be-boys Yacht World, but… Time and a place, chaps.

The troupe are out again for a bit of fire-breathing during Wild Boys and the lack of water wheel is made up by Slayer/Maiden-style pyrotechnics and visuals. Weird but satisfying. "Save A Prayer" returns us to the space of the aforementioned 80s Liminal “it”, before Rio sails us out for the evening. Slightly disappointed to note that Nick Rhodes didn’t do the crazy dithery keyboard part but for a day and an evening that has kept happy a broad church of Bond fans, new wavers, casuals, nerds of perturbation and roués, this is a small complaint.

Duran Duran. What’s not to like? Not much it turns out.