Meghan Trainor is this Generation’s Andy Kaufman
During my afternoon bathroom break with my iPad on my lap, I dove into a Meghan Trainor wormhole to sort out exactly what was so terrible about her music. I considered the shallow, braggadocios lyrics, the over produced production, that white collar, suburban virgin girl imitating a black street thug accent she sings with, the regurgitated and repurposed musical stylings and cues she uses in each song when it dawned on me. Meghan Trainor is not an annoying musician or a pop sensation; Meghan Trainor is this generation’s Andy Kaufman, and she’s fucking with us.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.