First off, who the hell likes Jedward? If you’re nodding your head in utter excitement, then already I’m concerned for you mentally (and physically if you’ve got the There’s Something About Mary-idea on how to keep your hair vertical, all-day, everyday). The Monkees started it all off but today we have subjected too much and too often to manufactured bands.

These little devils are created by the music industry for teeny boppers who are title holders of squealing (making Chuckie seems like a heaven) and are there simply to be bought into as a commodity. They dance like they’re on a strict Red Bull-only diet whilst their musical abilities are ignored; they can polish any old turd in the music studio and then when they are apparently “live”, it’s just a parody of miming frenzies, like watching the drunk at the work Christmas karaoke doo wailing through a Whitney Houston track.

Manufactured bands are pumped through the music industry machine in two ways: Either they’re branded as shy or cute and given strings of gut wrenching ballads to stutter their way through, or the use of stylists and Photoshop builds them up as huge sex symbols – anything to cover the bland reality of their boring lives and boring faces. Each tactic is pursued hammer and tong to manipulate and sucker in as many people in as possible; it’s all part of the sick game.

Manufactured bands are there to delude fragile minds with clichés, acting as puppets for businessmen; as you’re nodding your head along to some sickeningly inappropriate cover of a classic song, they reach around and empty your wallet. Do yourself a favour, by some Led Zeppelin, put it on louder than you can imagine and air guitar and head-bang to your heart’s content.

Skye Portman