Manufactured bands are big in Ireland. The mediocre bastards are bold about it, too. The really big act currently is Westlife the name says it all, and the music is just that bland. The newest powerhouse, made up of three guys and three girls drawn from thousands of auditionists, is a group called "Six." The brains behind them must have been inspired by the existing boy-group called "5ive."
It bears mentioning but needs not be said that there is no creativity involved in the music of these retards. That is, in fact, their definitive feature, and likely the reason people feel comfortable with them. If one of them ever put a pencil to paper they'd probably be fired on the spot. It is not likely that any one of them could even really sing, given a live microphonewhich nobody in their right mind would give them.
The songs themselves are of course made on a strict formula of beige emptiness. The poor fellow who dreams up these things must be pretty bored with his job, having to keep writing endlessly about emotions ranging from romantic-sexual wistfulness to lost love.
I don't know how the idiots can live with themselves. I wouldn't leave the house if I was responsible for such pollution.
May 2002, Kilkenny Ireland