Bands like McFly have always poised a tricky ethical dilemma. Should we be glad that they are introducing the younger end of the audience to the concept of guitars and ‘real’ bands or damn them as manufactured charlatans? Ultimately it probably depends on the strength of their music (Busted were pretty good and The Monkees were doing a similar thing 40 years ago), which is where McFly have really always fallen down.
To put it bluntly, they’re a bit rubbish. Third album in and not a lot has changed: this is a lightweight collection of cheery pop rock that pretends to have an edge (“we are the generation, can’t keep us underground”) yet is banal and dull in the extreme.
They may write their own songs and play their own instruments yet they are as manufactured a product as they come, informed by the outdated belief that the kids (in the true sense of the word) will only be able to relate to music of the lowest common denominator.
I’d love to love McFly, I truly would. But they have yet again done nothing to prove that their existence is anything other than futile. Anyone tempted to stick this in a Christmas stocking should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves.