Many a group could claim this award as their own: the Ting Tings were disliked by most everyone over the age of thirty; Scouting For Girls had one melody to their name and milked it repeatedly for every single on their album; and The Script were one of the latest in a long line of wuss-rock bands who moaned and ached their way into the hearts of almost eight different teenage girls. In this year for tatty rubbish, however, the one band which emerged from the wreckage in a tightly choreographed group (including one who holds her leg above her head once every three minutes) were The Pussycat Dolls.
It’s one thing to release a song which is critical of the music industry – musicians do it all the time, and a lot of Lily Allen’s popularity springs from her single-minded hatred for her own bosses. It’s quite another thing, though, to release a song which seems to be critical of the music industry but actually proves to be written by the industry and promoted vigorously by the music industry in a semi-ironic wink from the music industry to itself. That’s what The Pussycat Dolls did with their richly shite track “When I Grow Up”, which also tried to rhyme ‘movies’ with ‘boobies’ and failed. In a year when The Black Eyed Peas failed to release an album, it was left to this band to give us all the poorly constructed lyricism which is part of a tweenager’s staple diet. Having given us some awful music, it should also be remembered that the band viciously market themselves as sexually attractive, when in reality they appear to be five poorly-rendered barbershop mannequins brought to life by dark wizards. Poorly-rendered, male mannequins. It’s not exactly setting a good example for the children, is it?
And let’s not forget their reality TV Show. No wait: lets.
Awarded to: The Pussycat Dolls