For their first tour, S Club 7 are taking risks. Dark-haired Hannah is lowered in on a parachute, while clean-cut Jon clambers out of the audience to persuade a "bouncer" to let him onstage. Most unfeasibly of all, wildboy Paul roars on in a go-kart. It's only a matter of time before the parachute fails, the bouncer becomes temperamental or the go-kart hurtles into the orchestra pit.
Although the band are mostly sterile on record, this live show is a riot that would placate even the most avowed Club-hater. There is no sign of the suspected shift to a grown-up direction following the recent cannabis bust. The alarmingly magnificent seven run about for 90 minutes; there are 567 costume changes, exploding trapdoors, balloons and a mocked-up S "club" stage. It's like watching a giant aerobics routine promoted by a circus and starring the sons and daughters of Abba.
Generally, S Club 7 songs sound like Abba or the Jackson 5 on helium. They are triumphalist anthems about consumer nirvana, incessant partying, grasping opportunity and social togetherness. Listen to them long enough and you'll believe we live in a socialist utopia fuelled by champagne.
The group - backed by a funky all-black band - can all sing. Pouting Rachel (second sexiest woman in the world, according to a poll in FHM magazine) contributes more than just gyrations. Blonde, permanently grinning Jo (who gets the Guardian reviewer's vote) is the closest to a lead vocalist, with an unnervingly high voice. Bradley, who looks like he went to join a hip-hop band and got the wrong directions, leads the ill-advised rap moments.
Although the singing is note perfect, the choreography is most astonishing. Even "chaos" is scripted. At one point the band pile on the bonnet of a red 1960s Ford Thunderbird (registration: S Club 7). It's like Cliff's Summer Holiday, with no homoerotic or anti-societal overtones.
The highlights are the singles, from the perfect pop of opener Don't Stop Movin' to the alternative Communist Manifesto of S Club Party. Fabulous entertainment that, I feel, says more about our times than Ann Widdecombe, Gore Vidal and the complete works of Chairman Mao.
• S Club 7 play Newcastle Arena (0191-260 5000) tonight, then tour.
