Hailing from Burton upon Trent in Staffordshire, Made You Look / Made You Stare serve up 90s-flavoured alt-rock with heavy guitars and a pretty obvious punk streak. Their new single, Body Check, runs on an idea that really shouldn’t need repeating, but apparently still does: this body is mine.
The track comes in on a heavy groove, all fuzzed-up guitars, rough edges and amps sounding like they’ve been pushed right to the brink. Bass and drums keep things simple and direct, more interested in making a racket and kicking the song forward than smoothing anything out. There’s a bit of Skunk Anansie in the mix of chunky alt-rock and political bite, while the more unhinged moments bring a definite Dream Wife energy. But Kimberley is the real centre of gravity here, moving from a mocking speak-sing delivery into more melodic lines without ever losing that defiant edge, somewhere in the orbit of Kathleen Hanna and Karen O.
I’m especially into the two moments where the song switches things up. First, the chorus speeds up and starts brushing against punk; then later, everything opens out to make space for “My body, no debate / My body, I dictate” before the final hit. Those shifts stop Body Check from feeling like a straight run through familiar alt-rock territory and give it something more distinctive.
Lyrically, it takes aim at body shaming and that weirdly normalised habit of commenting on, picking apart or judging someone else’s body like it’s public property. There’s no dressing it up: “My body” becomes a repeated line in the sand, while the chorus fires through “not a puzzle, not a prize, not a topic, not a trend” before landing exactly where you’d expect: “Back. The. Fuck. Off.”
The video carries the same message, with burlesque artist Kinkarella at the centre. Words like “Free” and “Safe” are written across her skin; she’s groped without consent in a bar, then later finds release dancing in front of the band as they play live.
None of this is new. The depressing bit is that it still needs saying. So if we’re going to say it again, we may as well do it with big guitars, a proper shout-along chorus and one message hammered home loud enough to avoid any confusion: MY BODY. You’ve been warned.
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