I wouldn’t have believed it. Ne’er would I have dreamed it possible, let alone plausible. Prior to my encounter with The Would Be’s, the bare concept that the ’80s were cool again seemed like a vaguely gasped high street clothes store marketing ploy.

However, clad in a second skin-like catsuit, belting out happy, bouncy, breezy pop tunes in kitsch, Blondie-esque tones backed by synthy keyboards, crash cymbals galore, simple yet effective guitar lines and a headstockless bass, my opinion was revised.

It would appear that The Would Be’s have sunken their teeth into something forgotten – decent pop music. Not too tacky or too cheesy, just a warm amalgamation of mischievous fun and lashings of attitude. But well and good as it all is, the greatest obstacle in such a niche is versatility, something The Would Be’s unfortunately lack… four songs and you’ve pretty much heard it all.

Despite this, their crowd charming brand of pop proved a winner. Post-dated as it may be, a swing back to the days when pop music meant more than Swedish songwriters and expensive producers fits the bill like a shaggy perm in a Bananarama video. If a tad kooky in places, The Would Be’s provided that effervescent nostalgic melody so hugely evaporated in today’s chart world. Cracking stuff.