I was never a fan of the S Club 7.
I may have tapped a blithe foot to Reach at the barbers or possibly even jiggled my moneymaker to Don’t Stop Movin’ while tenpin bowling, but I don’t recall getting in touch with the Samaritans when the band split in 2003. I suspect few did.
S Club never inspired weeping adulation like One Direction or Bieber. When you watch their videos now, despite the primary-coloured combats and belly-flashing crop tops, they all look as if they would rather be doing something else. And, luckily for them, within a very short time, they were handed their wish. Along with some Aldi overalls.
But it seems that one of their number, the rather hard-looking Paul Cattermole, has had enough of replenishing the sugar display in aisle six and wants to get his groove on again. But, given that the former pop star, with his soul patch (splodge of hair beneath the bottom lip) and very odd surname, was the first Clubber to jump ship, one can imagine that the rest of the gang won’t be too responsive to his plea to be released from his retail mundanity.
However, as the rest of them haven’t exactly lit up the stratosphere with their artistic greatness, maybe they will overlook Paul’s shipjumping and give it another go. For the sake of the fans, obvs.