Meghan Trainor has not just made you look, she has, unfortunately, made you listen also. For some time now. A long time. Bubblegum pop heartbreak on a piece that appears to be light and lovely but is about as empty and vacuous as the pretty pink colouring that is etched to this track and its cover. Not even three minutes long, and that includes the opening spiel of a music video. Yet it takes just six seconds for an inevitable Gucci reference to be made. Designer clothing, flash cars and the vanity of it all are more than enough to coax those interested in shiny things to Trainor’s music. Like magpies to silver, lemmings to explosives. It is all the same. Meghan Trainor Made You Look.
Never forget that. Meghan Trainor has made you look. She has made you hear of her wearing Gucci, of wearing Louis Vuitton, in the vain hope that vanity will spread through her veins and coarse through to a loving public. There is a fresh spot in hell for those that enjoy this empty pop degeneracy. It is not the fact that it is a poor mix that tries to capitalise on the sounds of the 1950s, however vaguely, on those doo-wop stylings, but that Trainor does not give much lenience to those actively trying her music out. What a waste of a moderately good voice. Made You Look does much more than that, though. It made you look.
Glittery possessions, make you look. Trainor is keen to observe that without that makeup of outfits and expensive clothing, audiences will look anyway. They will look on in awe as for barely three minutes, the same few lyrics are dispensed with increasingly tired dismay. To take a breezeblock to the back of the head would be preferable. To lose the ability to hear, that would be preferable, although it is clear to point out that even without hearing, Meghan Trainor has made you look. Scott Hoying of Pentatonix fame features in the police line-up-like cameos that are littered throughout this track. Well, he features on the acapella B-side. If LCD Soundsystem barely managed an acapella version of Yeah, then the promises of Trainor and friends bashing out a promotional material message of vanity and wealth to the tune of Gucci and Louis Vuitton branding, are very slim. Still, she made you look.
Every inference, thought and comment that Made You Look hopes to take or make is understood after just one play. There is very little more to a track that will be defended as a defiant bash against wealth, by fans who are protecting a very wealthy hack singer. Considering the consistencies and setlist motives Trainor has as a musician, Made You Look should be no surprise. Her angle is simple, borderline insulting to intelligent thought. Take a lyric, extrapolate it with no thought for what its repetition could mean or how it could benefit. All About That Bass did much the same yet found its claws in the brains of billions for no good reason. Made You Look will fall on deaf ears. Nobody is looking at Trainor anymore. At least, not unless they’re still playing Candy Crush Saga.
