And so the culmination of that massive team effort - TV, tabloids, music industry and makeovers bears fruit and out pops Will Young's debut album. Of course the collaboration doesn't end there - witness the massive credits list on every track here - no room then for a lyric sheet. We must assume that if writer/producers Cathy Dennis and Richard 'Biff' Stannard were ever the victims of a tragic accident, the entire British pop market would be wiped out at once - such is their current dominance of the genre and of this collection. Likewise the omnipresent 19 organisation which manages Will and his producers as well as handling his publishing - ouch.
Dennis and Stannard at least ensure a calibre of pop song, and some suitably dreamy, Barryesque orchestral arrangements, but what about Will Young? The boy can sing of course, but surely these songs could have been performed as competently by any of the final dozen or so Pop Idol puppets - or better by Mick Hucknall.
No sign here of Pete Waterman's over-stated Nat King Cole comparisons, maybe the odd dash of Bobby Goldsboro and an adolescent George Michael, but Will even struggles on occasion to be heard above the backing singers and strings, he's that unimportant to the final mix. 'What's in Goodbye' boasts the mighty Burt Bacharach as one of its writers but despite its trademark muted brass stabs, whistling and soaring orchestra, it ain't no 'Walk On By'.
If he's lucky, Will might last long enough to decide what he wants to do - which songs he wants to sing. At the moment it's a sure-fire mix of everyman pop/ballad, 'Love Struck' being a perfect example, that'll be commercially successful - how could it not be after a year of wall to wall saturation coverage - but an artist has to follow his/her own instincts and Will must al ready be forming those. Let's hope he has the strength and room in his contract to follow them. Oh and please - no more emotionally constipated Beatles covers and stop going mmm, mmm, yeah at the start of everything, Will.
