The Pigalle club, at the Eros end of Piccadilly, is decked out like a packet of Sobranie Pinks to create what the club's website terms a "supper club vibe of sophisticated elegance". As Phoebe Killdeer, one of Nouvelle Vague's four featured singers, comes to the end of their Afro-Cuban take on Blue Monday, she looks around in wonder. "It's very strange, watching people eating while I'm hitting the cowbell," she muses. "Is it good?" She means the food. At £55 per head, it should be.

At the back, with the £25 non-diners, it's hard to see, but Killdeer is worth craning your neck for - all fringed dress and left-bank hair. Behind her are the foot soldiers of Marc Collin's high-concept act: accordion, double bass and drums, with Collin himself hiding behind a laptop and a grand piano in the corner.

But turning post-punk and electro-disco songs into easy listening isn't that easy. If Heart of Glass and Teenage Kicks are unconvincing, it's partly because the band's faux sophistication shows up weaknesses in the original songs. And partly because Nouvelle Vague on stage don't have the chops to deliver what the albums promise. Light-as-a-feather bossa nova may sound simple, but it requires musicianship: scrubby guitar chords, wimpy piano and vocal-tuning problems can't be ProTooled into perfection on stage.

Some numbers work better: Vince Clarke's Don't Go is a nice vehicle for Gerald Toto, while Just Can't Get Enough (from Clarke's Depeche Mode era) is given the Belleville Rendezvous treatment - fun, if amateurish. Marina Celeste intones Fade to Grey against moody bowed bass. Madness's Grey Day, sung with just drums, is a compelling showcase for Killdeer's performance skills, as is the "acoustic goth" of Bela Lugosi's Dead. And Melanie Pain sends us home happy with her Eurovision interpretation of Love Will Tear Us Apart.