In fact there's something heroic in the way that the members of Junction 25 - ages ranging from 11 to 18 - open up to an audience, use their own names, personal experiences and future hopes to deliver a slice of social comment on the whole yen-for-fame game.
In a world of giddy self-promotion - because nobody ever goes on Facebook to say they're boring or their life is unexciting so don't even think of ticking the "friend" box - there's an everyday pressure to be the enviable star in your own constantly documented 'show', and who knows: maybe you'll go global.
Maybe you'll be spotted, told 'you've got potential, kid' and - like Niall, in one of the pithiest aspects of the production - be packaged and promoted into a mega-superstar, without ever opening your mouth.
The clever on-screen footage of his rise to glossy celeb-status reinforces the spoofs on market influences that are woven through the episodes of bitching one-upmanship, throwing poses like those on the sampled music videos or auctioning off brand-leading sweets at over-inflated prices.
It's all about appearance, grabbing attention, being hot'n'cool. Never more so than when all the performers - male as well as female - don wigs and shades, as if their own looks and personalities are too humble to be the glam heroes that dominate the media.
Tashi Gore and Gary Gardiner have the overview as directors, but the devising of material originates with the young performers themselves.
And the current line-up, with several new faces in the ranks, are refreshingly able to spot that it's better to be yourself than an identikit cipher or a desperate wannabe - mind you, I bet there are loads of teenagers longing to be in Junction 25 now!