We're all judgemental at heart. Face it, the common idiom of 'don't judge a book by its cover' may be good on paper, but how often can you hand-on-chest say you don't form preconceptions on first glances? It's just good ol' human nature taking hold, allowing you to dissect whatever is in front of you. Yes, we're all guilty of it, especially when we're approaching a band for the first time. How the act present themselves is a major factor in their subsequent rise or fall – that gut reaction you have when you click play on YouTube will often determine your entire relationship with that band. Choosing a name, therefore, is mighty important – you can't just slap any old label on willy-nilly or you'll end up with some shite like Chumbawumba did – look where they ended up. The reverse is also true, there's a reason that some artists grace the upper echelons of superstardom; would Beyoncé by any other name sound as sweet? Just imagine if she was named Agatha. "Agatha, can you handle this?" No, Agatha probably couldn't.

We've got some pretty blatant trends going through current groups, the clearest being 'Something Club': Slow Club, Deaf Club, Bleeding Knees Club, Bombay Bicycle Club... the list is seemingly endless. But the reason they have these kitschy, vague titles, is that it evokes an exclusivity – like secret societies. Who would actually like to be a member in a club that specialised in Indian bikes? You can never be a member, but every now and again, they're willing to peel back the guise and flaunt their tasty bits; and as much as you try and resist it, that shroud of semi-mystery is alluring. There's an over-abundance of 'Clubs' at the moment, but surely that's just proof that this type of nom de plume is a success. So if you're a band looking for fame, join the 'club'. It's gimmicky, and the fad won't last much longer, but outfits from Torquay to Newcastle are jumping gung ho onto the encumbered bandwagon.

Similar can be said of 'Someone and The Somethings'. It was once a massive trend taken from jazz bands where there was a focal musician, and refurbished for the dawn of modern music – Bill Haley and The Comets, Buddy Holly and The Crickets et al. – which faded away as rock'n'roll took a more raucous, communist turn, meaning the singer no longer got top billing, and every member was equal. However, the convention has started to slip back into the limelight. Marina and The Diamonds, Florence + The Machine and Charlie Boyer and The Voyeurs are a few examples of this new breed. Again, it's no guarantee of success to have a name like this, and these musings are mere generalisations, but there are themes running through the names of both buzz bands and musical titans that pervade the ages. The practice of separating the lead singer seems to be an oddly reserved choice by rekindling the zeitgeist of half a century ago and playing it safe, yet it's one method that puts people at ease – you know what you're going to get, unlike bands with abstract titles such as Cake, Hammock or !!!, which offer little information to the audience (though it could be argued that this lack of clues is a hint at their sound in itself).

Of course, the main points of a band name are to provide a glimpse into what the music is like, and make money. It needs to be a brand. It needs to inform. You can easily imagine what music is made by Black Sabbath or DJ Fresh, though there are red herrings amongst the more flagrant indicators. Shorter, snappier names tend to do well – Blur, Jay-Z and Adele – as they roll off the tongue quickly. It's akin to web-based conglomerates; Google, Twitter and Facebook are brief titles that are easily remembered. The same is true for band names, and having something excessively complex or awkward never aids progress: TOY are doing pretty well, yet Joe Lean & The Jing Jang Jong vanished sharpish, didn't they? Something that a swanky marketing firm would drool over tends to be simple, concise and informative – when it comes down to it, music is a business, and though you may want to name your burgeoning neo-folk quintet after the opening line of Pride and Prejudice, your PR people, label and fans will thank you not to. "But that compromises my artistic vision," you may well cry. Don't make things harder for yourself.

More often than not, the name of a band will dictate the amount of fame and glory and how many buckets of money you can fill your bathtub with. It's intrinsically linked to success, though a good name doesn't always necessitate renown. Unfortunately, you could end up with the most ground-breaking, mind-splitting, awe-filled string of words to perform under, and never get further than playing to the locals down the road. The music industry is notoriously cut-throat, and bands who give the suits a chance to trim the fat will undoubtedly flounder. If you have a name that sounds like a few mates who can barely string a sentence together, playing for their friends and family, that's probably as far as you'll ever get. That said, Fall Out Boy got big.