Wrapping: Standard photo of re-grouped Irish quartet dressed in black (hardly festive) but surely to help them make look thinner. Moody solo shots too accompanying sentimental notes from each.

Style: Mush for grown-ups. More pap than Papiss Papapadopolous being papped by the paparazzi in Papua New Guinea.

Content: Loads of whoa-whoa-whoas in big, synthetic choruses to provide singalongs for 2013 winter tour celebrating two decades together, plus one token Christmas number.

’Tis the reason to be jolly: It doesn’t last any longer than 37 minutes and 30 seconds, though in fairness that’s 37.30 too long.

Scrooge moan: The entire self-indulgent package. Who needs boy bands?

White Christmas? Nope.

Blue Christmas? A Celtic tiger with no bite but with dazzling white molars. The one Chrimbo song, the album’s closer The Hour Before Christmas, is so dreary that even the most ardent Yuletide enthusiast would go out and buy a Grinch fancy dress.

Stocking or shocking? Even a renascent Scrooge could not give this away. Might make a good frisbee in any festive snowfall.