JLS
JLS – review JLS, aka Aston, Oritsé, Marvin and JB, are joined by Tinie Tempah (centre) at Wembley. Photograph: Matt Crossick/ EMPICS Entertainment As the boyband-loaded silver Mercedes convertible dangles precariously above Wembley's crowd, consensus below is divided. There are the parents who mutter "health and safety", shielding their tweens from its chassis, and those whose squeals surge accordingly as Aston's gaze (possibly) meets theirs. "Down here," one girl screams, decked out in her JLS -emblazoned hoody, sucking a ream of candyfloss. "Marvin I love you," cries another, tossing her glow stick at the bonnet. It's uncomfortable yet beguiling to watch, a bit like an attempted club snog minus the knockback. Cynicism suspended, I question any woman who...