REVIEW: Meghan Trainor – Title

This is not really the record with which we wanted to start the year.

If you’re one of the lucky ones, you won’t have heard the Meghan Trainor international earworm that is All About That Bass. Taking over airwaves rather insidiously, we suspect it became a pop anthem less for its plus-size cheerleading and more for being the perfect party-starter for under-8s.

It’s not that we dislike Trainor. For the most part she seems affable (as she did when we spoke to her) and, from what we can tell, sincere. But that’s where Title is endlessly irritating – the earnest delivery of tracks like Close Your Eyes and Dear Future Husband paint Trainor as essentially a transatlantic Olly Murs, with all the self-awareness of a teaspoon. In this here Swiftian age, that’s just not good enough.

Bang Dem Sticks is the only point the record comes alive, even with a “sicker than swine flu” moment that is more ill-judged than the John Legend collab. The rest of it blurs in a mess of nursery-rhyme bubblegum and enforced pep, though it hardly seems surprising: if the only name your record can inspire is the generic ‘Title’, it makes a lot of sense for the rest of it to be phoned in too.

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Meghan Trainor - Title
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