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... is irresistibly good. There may be a thick vein of middle-brow Strokesiness running through (absolutely sensationally-titled) Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, but this is a churlish and minor grumble.
Anyhow, stripped of the blazers, the inclination towards retrograde pastiche, and the faint suggestions of nepotism, those Strokes were, at their best, a pretty unequivocally wonderful formalist pop band, weren't they?
Can't quite get rid of the stink of that invidious decade-despoiling legacy, though ...
But Phoenix: sweet.
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