No one felt the pain of the ’80s like John DeLorean. Just as the jet-setting oddball millionaire began to realize his dream of unleashing an army of gull-winged, stainless steel sports coupes unto the world, Reagan’s cokeslinging goons came along and ruined him. Thus, the decade that gaveth so much (in inane excess), tooketh with ease, and we’re left to foot the cultural bill. But bad decades give us what good ones cannot: endless fodder for blushing nostalgia and optimistic revisionism. Enter Neon Neon, who combine a musical reverence for the era’s flanged guitars, canned drums and synthetic blips (offset by plenty of modern grime) with the actual life story of DeLorean, a glorious man bit in the ass by the American dream. Erstwhile Super Furries eccentric Gruff Rhys sings the tale in his dulcet rasp, documenting his protagonist’s rise and fall in the first person and with hilarious detail (’I see my reflection in Michael Douglas’ English sunglasses’) over the power-pop bounce of LA-based electro texturalist Boom Bip. Stainless Style is impressive for so many reasons’Raquel,’ dedicated to Miss Welch: hearing crunk meld with Italo Disco: a Yo Majesty cameo’but it’s the utter lack of irony that steals the show.

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