Hall & Oates : Daryl Hall and John Oates, the Hugo Boss-clad kingpins of Reagan-era pop, seemed destined for the casino-circuit dotage most pop stars eventually face -- their new music largely ignored, their fan base fading to nothingness. But then, around 2005, something strange happened. A real H&O revival began.

This reassessment of the most commercially successful duo in pop history hits a peak Tuesday, when H&O receives the Icon award during BMI's 56th annual Pop Awards, joining the likes of Paul Simon, Van Morrison and the Bee Gees. They'll follow this honor Thursday and Friday with two rare nights at the Troubadour, the site of their first Los Angeles shows some 35 years ago.

Like many megastars who've survived past their commercial peak, H&O have been embraced by a new generation, though it hasn't always been clear if the new fans' motives are totally sincere. What began in the early 2000s as fond satire -- a hairy Oates and swanlike Hall were parodied on "Yacht Rock," the popular Internet series poking fun at the turn-of-the-'80s soft-rock scene -- progressed into the widespread acceptance of H&O's music as a guilty pleasure, still critically questionable, perhaps, but hard to resist.

At that point, along with artists like Journey and Phil Collins, Hall and Oates became part of an emerging category: Call them the indefensible greats.