It might seem a wholesome name but given that their line-up includes two former models with a contacts book most industry bods would kill for, The Virgins might be something of a misnomer.

In town to promote their eponymous debut album of which big things are expected, it is easy to see why this uber-cool Manhattan bunch were snapped up on the basis of one five-track demo.

Nepotism? Perhaps. Musical saviours? Probably not. The Virgins are a marketing dream with all the right ingredients. Frontman Donald Cumming – two parts Jagger, one part Ferry – has all the moves and is as polished as the Duran Duran-inspired new-wave funk his band play.

He slid across the floor with all the grace of a man made for the catwalk, and had the kids going wild with an ease last seen in 2001 with the arrival of fellow New Yorkers, The Strokes.

“Loving ain’t easy but it sure is fun,” shouted Cumming in another lyric inspired by his days with the It-crowd.

Teen Lovers, Private Affair and Rich Girls – all infectious, hook-laden nuggets impossible to resist – recounted similar tales, and suggested, in Cumming’s case at least, loving was never anything other than fun.