I am normally a huge fan of KRU. True, I have never actually seen them perform live, but I own a few of their original CDs and even met them when I tagged along with a foreign journalist who wanted to do an interview. Their effervescence and savvy on that afternoon were so infectious that the session must count as one of the most fun I've ever had with my clothes on.

Their English songs are pedestrian but their Malay ones can give you a buzzy rush. Awas , Ooh La La and Fanatik are triple scoops of pop perfection, sprinkled with sin and topped off with a turret of fresh whipped glamour. I must confess that deep, deep down inside, I'm really rather shallow, and my fondness for KRU belongs to that part of me that firmly holds Back to the Future to be the greatest movie ever made.

I was perturbed when the killjoy fundamentalists wanted to ban their last tour; I was amused when the authorities wanted to remove the word Mania from that same show title; I was pleased when those very genuine-looking sex photos of Edry surfaced on the Net, because it's always nice to know that someone out there is getting laid. Yes, me and the Abdul Halim brothers go way back.

But recently I suffered a rude shock. I saw the ad which they produced and starred in, for a new Perodua model (Don't ask me which model: all cars, like all soccer players, look the same to me). I've been going on a movie binge and I have seen the ad in the cinema about eight times in the past week, and believe me, the effect is not pleasant.

The ad aspires to the black-and-metallic blue night ambience of Tim Burton's Batman . The three brothers get into their respective Peroduas to the strains of their OK new song Luarbiasa . Norman says through his head-piece, Kita bertemu di markas . (We'll meet at headquarters). They cruise through the streets, eliciting astonished gasps from teenyboppers, skateboarders and socialites. They then arrive and remove their sunglasses.

What's wrong with this picture? I have seen it with audiences for Bollywood, Hollywood and Hong Kong movies, and each time the crowd reaction was the kind of sneering condescension and derisive laughter usually reserved only for the latest Ibrahim Ali statement. I could actually feel myself sinking deeper into my seat, cringing like hell.

The ad takes itself far too seriously. Presenting a humble Perodua to look like the Batmobile may seem cool and sardonic but there isn't a glimmer of self-mocking irony in the enterprise. It's all empty pomp, symptomatic of the worst excesses of the Malaysia Boleh brigade. They should have dropped the damn thing onto the North Pole.

Is the tackiness of KRU something new? Or could they have been tacky all along without my knowing it? All of a sudden everything which seemed quaint before now seem irritating: that English video with the clingy Mat Salleh girls, those product endorsements, even that soft drink they came up with. There's a thin line between savviness and silliness - just ask Madonna - and you can't spend too much time on the wrong side.

I realise that "advertising genius" is an oxymoron but this particular ad is as irritating and insignificant as a piece of grit in the eye. Each time I see it I know I should look away in fear and loathing, but I am morbidly drawn to it as if it were a particularly gruesome road accident, a suicide jump or an Ummi Hafilda public appearance.

Hyperbole is an entrenched part of the hip-hop genre. Bragging about the size of one's weapon or the flyness of one's bitch are charmingly integral to the whole attitude, and for this we have to thank all those young African-Americans who have so enriched our collective consciousness. But KRU are a little too white to pass off as those badass niggaz in the hood, and I'm not just referring to skin tone.

Has anyone ever been badass and Boleh at the same time? Maybe Will Smith, but I can't stand him either. So I am forced to re-evaluate my opinion of KRU. I realise they are biting their nails as they read this, but I'll have to drive the whole idea of them around the block a couple of times before deciding whether I want to buy it. I know it's hard, but it's the right thing to do.