DURAN DURAN Apparently, they are drinking from the fountain of youth. Stephanie Pistel
If you were, in any meaningful sense of the word, alive between 1983 and 1985, you’re likely to have feelings about Duran Duran. The handsome, stylish, funk pop quintet from Birmingham, England, were as big as a band could get back when MTV was redefining bigness for a vacuous age. But after 30 years of vicissitudes, it turns out the most durable part of Duran Duran—unlike almost all of their telegenic early ‘80s New Romantic-adjacent counterparts—was their songs, which still sound bizarrely contemporary and perfect on the radio. The band is still on the road, in support of a strong record, Paper Gods, from last year. Lead singer Simon LeBon spoke to me about it by phone.
