As far as decades go, the ‘80s were nothing short of waking up with your pants off in a Eurotrash 2 door coupe 30 miles east of where you were last conscious. How you got there, why you got there, and the strange, incredulous feeling you get looking back on those times all are the ’80s. New wave. Mall hair. Stirrup pants. Wait, let’s stick to New Wave. New Wave began as a way to brush off punk bands and sell them to society at large. Once bands started to call themselves New Wave, all bets were off. As everything does, it was cool, then cheesy, then on VH1, and now it’s ironically hip. In comes The Jaguar Club. They are New Wave. I don’t know why they bother, but them’s the breaks.