Hear'Say, SECC, Glasgow

The boys from next door meet the girls from the top-shelf

There's an apocryphal story that the Monkees – the original manufactured, made-for-TV pop group – were auditioned by being sent into a room containing only a panel of judges and a stack of empty Coke cans. One Monkee built a wall of cans across the doorway and said "You have to pick me now – no one else can get in!" Another slammed one can down on the judges' desk and said "Checkmate." If any member of Hear'Say were presented with the same task, you imagine they'd point the tin, and say "Ooh, I can picture my face right there."

The Hear'Say experience is an orgy of commerce from the start. Before the band have even taken the stage, a projected Burger King logo swirls around the curtain, and the big screen shows a constant 120-second loop of ads for deodorants and instant cameras, intercut with images of stars real, fake and somewhere in between. Powerpuff Girls! Rachel from Friends! Pikachu! Homer! Steps! Each is greeted with a wave of screams, almost drowning out the sound of DJ Pied Piper. It's one long ad break, and the kids are loving it loving it loving it. I feel my skin turning orange and gills growing on my neck.

Confession time: I didn't watch Popstars. Mainly on the eminently reasonable grounds that a) I have a life and am usually out on Saturday evenings, and b) anyone who watches prime-time ITV is either a moron or is shortly about to become one. Forgive me, then, if I've failed to pay much attention to which one is or isn't gay, which one has or hasn't done porn, and which one may or may not have kids.

It's reassuring to know that I'm not alone. It was louche synthpopper Momus who recently said that Warhol was almost right: such is the fragmentation of the modern media that one day everyone will be famous for 15 people. Hear'Say's constituency may have been more in the region of 15 million, but it seems to be atrophying. Sales are slow, and ticket prices are being slashed. This, however, is Hear'Say's 15 minutes, and, my God, are they milking it.

A mocked-up film of the five arriving in an unmarked black helicopter, a blast of pretend nu-metal, and five abseiling ropes fall from the sky. They're on. One by one, their faces flash up on the big screen. There's Suzanne, the obligatory cute blonde. There's Noel, the cheeky chappie from Cardiff. There's Kym, the one with the sarcastic, seen-it-all look of a Camden Town rock chick. There's Danny, the one with the weird head, an unsettling mix of Morph and Shrek. Each is met with a delighted scream. Then there's Myleene – and this time I almost scream. Myleene Klass is so cartoonishly attractive that it's plain silly. It's as though she was designed by a panel of animators chaired by Russ Meyer. She's so far beyond sexy that she crosses over into the realms of camp, and the only response is to giggle.

Can they sing and dance? Of course they can. This is slightly disappointing, but inevitable. After "Breathe" and "One", there's a moment of choreographed spontaneity. "Can you believe it?" coos Myleene. "Our first ever tour!" Suzanne chips in. "You know what, guys? We're doing our very own show on our very own stage! Wooh!" They've been rehearsing this since April. Then it's Danny's turn. After buttering up the mums in the crowd, he adds "Dads, don't fall asleep, the show's about to get a lot better." Myleene steps out in a low-cut leather catsuit for a solo rendition of Tina Arena's "Chains", and I'm not giggling any more. As two male dancers wrap her up in chains, the dads suddenly see what Shrek was on about.

Each member gets their own slot. Danny, wearing a surprising Unknown Pleasures T-shirt, chooses "I Found Lovin'" by the Fatback band. Noel, wearing an even more surprising anti-Nike T-shirt opts for Luther Vandross' "Never Too Much". Suzanne emerges on a chaise longue for a karaoke-perfect Madonna on "Express Yourself", and the dads wake up again. Kym dedicates LeeAnn Rimes' "How Do I Live" to her kids, with domestic happy snaps on screen. Just like an old-style Sixties revue show, the Hear'Say live show leans heavily on the hits of others. We get a Gloria Estafan medley, a "Pinball Wizard"/ Boogie Wonderland" segue, a pointless "Monday Monday", and "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (with soft focus waterfall footage).

Then it's the 11-year-olds' turn. In a section where the entire Popstars process threatens to implode in a cascade of infinite meta-mirrors, Hear'Say invite three children onstage to audition. Morph Man – his Plasticine head beginning to melt – leans over to kiss the winner. The tot shies away, scared, and who can blame her?

Myleene has something to say. "Being a pop star is great. You can go anywhere, do anything." And when it's all over, and no one wants to know, just remember that they wanted this.

s.price@independent.co.uk

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