My new guilty pleasure (after arguing many times that I don't feel guilty about musical pleasures) is Spacehog.
First of all it's a bad band name.
Second of all, everything they do is both derivative and a bit shallow.
That noted, they derive from Suede and Bowie and Roxy Music and they do the huge guitar crunch and swoopy chorus vocals beautifully. They really sound epically, fantastically glam rock.
They're easy to find in the cut out bins.
Resident Alien and The Chinese Album are both worthy.
AMG sums it up pretty well on The Chinese Album review:
"In the Meantime" was a huge hit, and Resident Alien went gold, but Spacehog's debut earned them no critical respect. At any other time, the group's glitzy revival of Bowie, Roxy and Mott the Hoople would have earned kudos, but it arrived at the height of Brit-pop, when other, more celebrated (and, frankly, better) bands were dominating the media spotlight. So, when it came time to deliver their second record, Spacehog knew they had to make a big splash, and The Chinese Album delivers on that promise. A faux song cycle layered with details and hooks, The Chinese Album is a big album conceptually, but the band doesn't quite have the gravity required to make it the sweeping achievement they desire. That hardly means that the album isn't enjoyable, however. Royston Langdon's mock-Bowie baritone is damn near irresistible, and when they have the right hooks and melodies, the result is a gaudy guilty pleasure.