A quick Google search will throw up a list of hundreds of bands called The Enemy. What makes this lot different from the rest of them? Well, they'd claim it's because their music has an 'everyman' appeal, as evidenced by the title of their second album. In an era when 'everyman' has become a byword for 'pub rock', that's probably an accurate description of The Enemy, too. Whatever the reason, the Coventry trio have been inexplicably adored by the masses since their 2007 debut 'We'll Live and Die in These Towns' went straight to the top of the UK charts upon its release, and are now level-pegging with Kasabian for the rights to Oasis's throne when the Gallaghers finally decide to hang up their eyebrows for good.

And there's no doubt that some of 'Music for the People' will sound fantastic on The Enemy's stadium dates with Oasis this summer. The first half, at least, filters big, heavy rock soundbytes through effects intent on creating atmosphere, but not really succeeding, while the unnecessary female vocal ("Whoooaaaaahhh… whoooooohhhh", etc.) on 'No Time for Tears' is especially embarrassing.

It's almost inevitable that The Enemy then revert to their factory settings, i.e. ripping off a number of different bands. The Jam are the most notable victims - 'Nation of Checkout Girls' and 'Don't Break the Red Tape' couldn't be more in homage to Messrs. Weller and co. if they tried - and the downbeat ballads 'Keep Losing' and 'Last Goodbye', replete with trite violin embellishments as many of these songs are, are as formulaic as they come. 'Silver Spoon' is a flat attempt at Sgt. Pepper's-era Beatles, while The Who and Paul McCartney are also generously pilfered from at various points.

All that without mentioning Tom Clarke's terrible lyrics, which try to be as clever as Alex Turner or as political as Billy Bragg, but fail laughably on both counts. An insultingly unpleasant album from a band without an original note in their repertoire.