What a song: a magnificent epic of the unbearably banal. It must take a lot of skill to make this kind of music, or at least, a lot of committee-fuelled, hit-doctored planning.

First of all, there is a piano. Then the appalling Powter starts singing his words: words which openly include the phrase "coffee to go". A minute in, and the chorus comes over all Hear'Say; two minutes and the flavour is more B*Witched; thirty more seconds, and, from nowhere, a Jim Croce bridge. Hear him check those cross-generational boxes.

For all this musical dolly mixture, the overall effect strives for nothing so much as the theme from Cheers. But the effortless truth-telling of the original becomes, as ever, bland, trite gobbledegook. "You stand in line just to hit a new low": indeed.