This idea – Westlife as a sign of pop catastrophe – is a mix of the true and the false and the condescending. The scale of Westlife’s success, more than almost any other factor, was enough to convince even sympathisers that the charts were broken, that pop was broken, a damaged transmitter no longer capable of processing the cultural signals around it. One of these things is not like the others, apparently. Look at the list of the most successful Number One acts – Elvis, the Beatles, Westlife. Implicit in the jokes is a feeling that Westlife are different. There have been times when I’ve wondered myself what on earth I would say, given that from a standing start I could barely remember two of them. Westlife have always been this blog’s nemesis, the doom encoded in its premise: however entertaining the song or era I’m writing about is, at some point I will have to deal with fourteen Westlife number ones.
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