Duran Duran

November 4, 2004 4:00AM

[
          {
            "name": "Related Stories / Support Us Combo",
            "component": "11171270",
            "insertPoint": "4",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "6"
          },{
            "name": "Air - Leaderboard - Inline Content",
            "component": "13002605",
            "insertPoint": "2/3",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "7"
          },{
            "name": "R1 - Beta - Mobile Only",
            "component": "12306405",
            "insertPoint": "8",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "8"
          },{
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "11034510",
            "insertPoint": "12",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          },{
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "11034510",
            "insertPoint": "4th",
            "startingPoint": "16",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          }
          
            ,{
              "name": "RevContent - In Article",
              "component": "12571913",
              "insertPoint": "3/5",
              "requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
            }
          
        ]

Duran Duran has endured as one of the few survivors of the fabricated "new romantic" movement that produced such dubious hairspray queens as Spandau Ballet and Adam & the Ants. Solid material and a strong live show put the band over the top in the Atari age, but some usual suspects -- egos, cocaine, etc. -- eventually unraveled the lipsticked lads as they tried to find their footing with everything from banal funk to a woefully bad covers collection.

Astronaut, which reunites the original lineup for the first time in nearly two decades, isn't a return to yesteryear either. "Bedroom Toys" is Prince lite, "Want You More" is dance-floor fluff, and the title track sounds like Major Tom on the prowl at a gay disco. Duran always worked best as ear candy, but if Rio is Ghirardelli, Astronaut tastes like low-grade Hershey's. The return of Roger and Andy Taylor is a nonevent. Roger Taylor's drumming is about as exciting as a metronome, and Andy Taylor's slinky rhythm bursts -- the secret ingredient behind memorable hits such as "The Reflex" and "Girls on Film" -- are almost nonexistent here. Instead, Astronaut is overwhelmed by Nick Taylor's dull synth chirps and Simon Le Bon's voice, which sounds Mary Kate-thin. -- Geoff Harkness

Duran Duran

This Week's Issue