One can only assume that Louis Walsh has been so busy with his various media commitments that he’s taken his eye off the Westlife ball of late. There they were, turning themselves into quite a nice little pop band with last year’s decent Turnaround album then, wham, they lose their most charismatic member and follow it up by releasing this disaster of a record. They can’t claim that the warning signs aren’t already there; it’s only a couple of years since Robbie Williams’ grand folly Swing When You’re Winning.
Yet even that, thanks mainly to Williams’ own wannabe Rat Pack persona, made some kind of twisted sense. Who on earth, however, thought that it would be a good idea for Westlife and their – allow us to be frank for a moment – limited vocal ability to tackle an entire album of Frank Sinatra covers?
Why would you bother with this when the likes of ‘Mack The Knife’, ‘Moon River’, ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ and the rest are already out there in their original and far superior form? Why listen to the band being something that they are so plainly not? If this is an exercise in maturing then it’s woefully misguided. The critics will loath it and I wouldn’t be so sure that their audience will be too keen either.
This is cynical, cheap, creatively bankrupt and it sucks. Now ain’t that a kick in the head.