Oasis’ comeback has predictably spawned a number of copycats, with youngins hurriedly buying some Stone Island and putting their hands behind their backs like umarells and hollering into a mic, probably not one bit arsed if they’re aping a Gallagher.

It happens all the time in music, from the slew of mop tops that happened when The Beatles got back from Hamburg, to the plaid shirts and ripped jeans making eyes at Seattle when Nirvana had hits – when someone gets big, the clothes and walks change.

Alas, derivative bands who sail too close to the source material end up getting the piss royally taken out of them, and you can see why. Take the Stone Roses as an example, and in their music, you can hear garage punk, acid house, folk, power pop, power trios, reggae, balearic, psychedelic rock and even hip hop. It was the marriage of all these things that made them such an exciting prospect, coupled with their arrogance.

The soundalikes didn’t have the depth in their record collections, and their reference point was simply one band, and therefore, the music ends up being thin and ripe for some ribbing. Candyflip may have been nice lads, but they appeared doing a Beatles cover that jumped both feet onto the bandwagon and they got roundly mocked, despite landing a hit with the awkward shuffle of ‘Strawberry Fields’.

Post Britpop, we were met with Landfill Indie – a superb term to catalogue the groups that were seemingly signed in a hurry to capitalise on the successes of Oasis, Blur, The Verve, Elastica, et al, and if you’re looking for a totem for such a term, think about Razorlight, bless ’em.

So what’s all this about Indie Poo? Well, the term originated from someone having a laugh online – Angus 0fficial. You don’t need to know who that is, but the term started to stick.

Bands like Park Drive and Garage Flower have been racking up views on Instagram, thanks to a lot of deadpan commentary and folks outright laughing at them. They’re trying to revive Oasis, when Oasis already did it for them.

The Courteeners would be sweating at all this if they were consistently selling out huge shows, like.

Related to UK Poo (over confident, low rent UK drill/grime), this is very much a case of vitality. See, even if you’re lousy – especially if you’re lousy – hate clicks are still clicks, so some of these kids are getting numbers online. Manchester’s Pierce O’Brien who has the shakiest relationship with melody and rhythm, is sitting right on the boundary of Joke and Cult Hero. He seems like an earnest enough lad, which puts you in mind of listening to Outsider Music, where the self belief and lack of traditional talent makes some people double down and really go to bat for them.

Either way, these Indie Poo artists are getting gigs now, and you might wonder if the joke has gone too far now. But then, can you guarantee that everyone who went to watch Wesley Willis fully had his back as he sang through his acute schizophrenia?

Either way, we’re in a window of internet tastemakers, and while there’s a rich seam of stuff to laugh at, you do wonder if it’s a bunch of dicks having a laugh at someone who was brave enough to stick their neck out and have a go, right?

Furthermore, you have to consider that as generic and one dimensional as these Indie Poo artists are, they’re resolutely NOT artifical intelligence. These kids with their self belief – unearned or otherwise – sing out of tune, waddle around with their beer bottles and seemingly have zero problem with trying to impersonate someone we’ve already seen, but fuck it, at least they’re not created by Silicon Valley, right?

Sure, the draping yourself in Union Jacks and wearing the same clobber that you see at a racist rally isn’t going to sit well with anyone in their right mind, and we will die on the hill that taking the piss out of people is never to be discouraged, but ostensibly, is this just a bunch of liberal naysayers having a pop at working class lads who dress a bit daft?

Might be.

When Lester Bangs declared his love for garage punk – those generic bands who all copied the Yardbirds and Stones – we ended up with a record collector approved scene which holds no embarrassment. Maybe these little scally fuckers are doing something similar? Maybe, some kids putting a gig on for 30 people and getting drunk while they do it, is a half decent thing? They’re unlikely to have any hits on their hands, but it’s a night out. Dr Feelgood and the Pub Rock scene kept small venues alive so Punk could happen.

Sure, these bands are embarrassing and watching them online might make you sweat with worry, but at the heart of it, you’ve got some live music in venues that are looking pretty precarious at the minute, so the real sentiment here should probably be more akin to letting them have their fun.

Angus Official even says: “I don’t mean this as a diss – this is what we stand for in this country, we live in the sewer.”

It’s not snobby to rib someone for being shit, but it’s also not bad to kick back against it and ask “what are you doing then?”

Fact is, we do live in the sewer, and while you won’t catch us at one of these shows, if a bunch of kids are putting some money behind the bar and getting out of the house, we should absolutely leave ’em to it.