The Swiftening – Pt 4: “1989”

(The Swiftening Series: 1. folklore | 2. Lover | 3. reputation | 4. 1989 | 5. Red | 6. Speak Now | 7. Fearless | 8. Taylor Swift)

Last semester, I decided to take a class on the Beach Boys. (Hang with me here, I promise this is relevant).

At the time I decided to enroll in the class, a naïve college junior, I didn’t think too hard about the music I was signing myself up to listen to. I liked the professor teaching the class and knew through the grapevine that the music would at least not be terrible. I had fond memories of a childhood spent at Indiana waterpark Splashin’ Safari, running barefoot on hot pavement while “Surfin’ Safari” played out of fake rocks sitting in the shrubs. It would be an interesting class with listenable music taught by a professor I liked and knew well enough not to worry too much about difficulty.

And then, I fell head-over-heels in love with the music of the Beach Boys. (Like… a lot. A lot.)

I remember standing in my living room after having info-dumped a bunch about the band to my roommate and saying, in awe and wonder, “I think I love this band.”

And, like, of course. Of course I would love the Beach Boys. I’m the sort of person who falls a little in love with everything I learn a lot about. I cannot casually think or learn about a topic, especially if that topic is a musician. Yes, the Beach Boys are legitimately one of the greatest bands of all time, and I’ll die on that hill, but ultimately I think I would have fallen a little in love with them even if they weren’t. Of course going into a classroom every other day to learn about and appreciate the music of one artist would make me a weird rabid fan of said artist. Of course, right?

So it’s kind of funny how, about a month ago, I had the thought “Wouldn’t it be interesting if I did a review of every Taylor Swift album?” and didn’t see how that was going to kick me into a deep and bottomless pit of obsession.

My boyfriend came over for our weekly dinner one night and after we finished eating I spent several minutes telling him all about the release of Fearless (Taylor’s Version) and the controversy surrounding Scooter Braun. And I had that thought. That familiar thought from the living room I had experienced just about a year before. “I think I love Taylor Swift.”

You’re all probably laughing at me right now. Of course you’re a fan, Gillian, why would you sign up to write eight reviews of an artist you hated, or even felt no special feelings for? And like, yeah, okay, I’m the last one to the party here. I’ll admit it. But I really had myself convinced that this was all academic. I mean, Taylor Swift is a fascinating figure, even if you don’t care for her music. She’s just such a force, a rare woman who has somehow managed not to avoid controversy but to bounce back from it, no matter what. She is infamous and beloved, reviled and respected. Every one of her albums has a distinct genre and tone. Every one of her songs has been dissected in countless corners of the internet, the real-life celebrities and ex-boyfriends sung about immediately identified and catalogued. Why would I not be fascinated? Why would I not be tempted to cut open this specimen and see what makes it tick? (But like, not in a weird way).

But what I’ve found is all these things that make Swift such a fascinating figure also makes her immensely likeable. Certainly I’ve had my critiques and qualms with Miss Swift, all of which I have documented up to this point, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t charmed by her. For all her immense stardom, there is something so grounded and honest about her. Not in a fake way either, she isn’t pretending to be someone she isn’t. So much of her music is about her struggles with stardom, and sure, that’s not relatable. But it is real. And I’ve found that all of the messy parts of her music, the bits I can’t really find myself enjoying… well, in a weird way, it’s what has kept me so drawn to it.

That’s my best explanation for the comparatively lukewarm reaction I had to 1989.

Now, don’t freak out. I’m not saying 1989 is a bad album. In fact, I’m saying the complete opposite. 1989 is perhaps the most polished and consistent of the Swift albums I’ve heard. Every moment of this album is shined to a pristine finish, each radio-friendly hit linking arms with the radio-friendly hits on either side of it.

And like, okay, that makes sense. 1989 is the album that marked Swift’s full departure from her early country sound. The statement of the album is “Hello, my name is Taylor, and I am a pop star now.” I love pop! I do. But compared to the experimentation and the messiness of the albums that come after that, 1989 feels a little less compelling. This is the baseline from which all the weird, fun (and sometimes not fun), intriguing messiness of later albums divulged. I listened through the album and thought “Oh god, I have no idea what I’m even gonna say about this one.”

So… allow me to do my best.

The album opens with “Welcome to New York.” On one hand, this song is an introduction to the new Swift sound. Just as the narrator finds themselves in the modern, new, fast-paced environment of New York City, Swift beckons her listeners into her new, polished, modern pop sound. On the other, it’s a song about Swift’s own life. She moved from Nashville to New York. The literal and the symbolic collide in a way that’s pretty clever… I just wish this song was a bit more listenable.

One of the things I did notice about 1989 is a pervading sense of immaturity. That makes sense, at least to me. The Swift in this album is experimenting with a new sound, one that divulges noticeably from the genre and stylings she started with. That has been the case for most of the albums I’ve written about so far, yes, but this is the first time Swift ever really experimented with her genre in a big way.

So it’s a little awkward at times, and that’s really on display in this track. Swift’s vocals are a little tinny and small and the harmonies don’t slide together as nicely as they probably could. Thematically, it’s a clever way to open the album, but it’s not a very solid first song, really.

No worries, though, because the momentary stumble is recovered by Track 2. Yes, it’s “Blank Space.” Even as this song came out well before I really paid Swift her due, I remember really liking this one even then. (Well, as much as I could have until constant radio play wore it out a little… but just a little.) Here is Swift showing off one of the first moments of interesting self-reflection, an artistic motif she would continue to return to and refine. In this song, she takes on the role of the serial dater.

This is an aspect of Swift’s image I feel like I haven’t really discussed much up to this point, and it’s always seemed to me the silliest of the many accusations levelled against her. At this point, Swift was 25 years old and had been writing songs in the public spotlight since she was 17. I think the fact so many of her songs were about heartbreak wasn’t a sign of her being some sort of crazy ex-girlfriend type, but rather a sign that she was pretty young and immature. I mean, if I had an avenue of expressing all my deepest, most emotional thoughts to the world at the age of 17 I don’t know if people would have had all that great of an impression of me either. It probably didn’t help things either that she was constantly in the public spotlight. By what I’ve seen, this was a reason many of her relationships ended, and in albums I’ve already discussed Swift is open about the strain fame puts on her personal relationships.

But even this accusation were 100% true, this song is still a delicious and hilarious celebration of this media image. It’s easy to see the roots of reputation here. Swift strategically taking on the traits of her worst image and playing around in the space, telling stories about versions of her that may not actually exist but do to onlookers. I love the little elements that say so much about this character – that little pen click in the chorus signifying her using her latest victim for her next hit song. The soft, rhythmic sound of the instrumentals, suggesting a scheming, ominous figure. It’s just great storytelling, Swift at her songwriting best.

Then it’s “Style” and… this is the song that I’ve never been able to argue I didn’t like. It’s sensual and driving, with a hook so catchy one listen will have the rest of the song echoing my head for days afterward. The only problem with it is that it’s obviously about the time she dated Harry Styles (thus the name), so that’s the only thing anyone ever wants to talk about regarding this song. Who cares if it’s about Harry Styles? Shut up about Harry Styles!! (Disclaimer: I do like Harry Styles).

The unbroken chain of great songs continues. Next is “Out of the Woods,” a song which beautifully captures the emotion and anxiety of a fragile relationship. The repetitive chorus drives home the emotional state of the narrator, constantly asking themselves if they can relax, if things can finally be alright, if things will calm down. The intensity just builds and builds and builds all the way up until the end. And then, another favorite comes: “All You Had to Do was Stay.” For a pretty sad song, it’s got this tempo and rhythm I really enjoy.

So, for those of you keeping track at home, that’s four songs, back-to-back, with intensity, artistry, and polish. Solid songwriting, engaging hooks. The whole package. So what’s the song that breaks the streak?

Okay… let’s talk about “Shake it Off.”

Over the course of this process, I have gained a lot of appreciation and respect for Taylor Swift. I admire her artistry, her image, her performance skills, her poise… a lot of things. What I cannot stand about her, though, is what I have decided to call her “silly voice.” “Silly voice” Swift is Swift when she’s trying to do a goofy, upbeat, sarcastic and pithy aside. It’s the auditory equivalent of an overexaggerated wink. It has pervaded throughout her work, in “This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” “ME!”, “You Need to Calm Down”… and even for the briefest of moments in “No Body, No Crime” (“She was with me, dude!”). And I hate it. I’m sorry. I just don’t find it cute or funny.

Up until this point this hasn’t come up because my frustration with this tendency of Swift’s is not constructive. It’s not objective. It’s not reasoned. It is just what the kids might call “cringe.” But “Shake it Off” is probably the most famous of the songs off of this album, so I can’t really avoid saying what it is I dislike so much about it.

Every part of this song is… “silly voice” Swift. The honking background instrumentals, the inanely repetitive chorus, the weird squeaky breathy thing she’s doing in the verses for some reason… all of it is nails on a chalkboard for me. And the pinnacle, the epitome of “silly voice”… the spoken/faux-rapped bridge.

I know it’s supposed to be cheeky, but I just cannot stand it. I’m so sorry. It hurts me. It hurts my brain.

It doesn’t help that this song got played approximately a million times a day at the height of its popularity, so when I wasn’t being actively annoyed by it it was being transformed into the auditory equivalent of styrofoam.

But, it’s fun I guess. Fine for dancing. I just… I’m sorry.

Anyway.

There are other songs off this album I don’t care for, of course, but none with the fiery passion of “Shake it Off.” For example, “Bad Blood” has always just been a bit boring for me. Compared to Swift’s usual songwriting skills, it feels pretty cliché. If “Blank Space” was laying the groundwork for the interesting self-reflection of reputation, this song was laying the groundwork for the clumsy parts of that same album. But otherwise, the rest of the album is really solid. Like, really solid.

“How You Get the Girl” feels like a perfect merging of Swift’s country-pop roots, upbeat and wholesome and cute. It’s catchy with a fun vibe that stood out from my very first listen. “Wonderland” is a guilty pleasure despite my long-held prejudice against Alice in Wonderland-themed media. “You Are in Love” is producer Jack Antonoff at his absolute Antonoffiest, with subtle electronic vibes I really enjoy.

I want to end this review with a discussion of “New Romantics.” It’s the final song of the album, the last message Swift wanted to leave with her fans. It’s fast-paced, with that darker tone recognizable in “Blank Space.” The lyrics focus on the quirks and heartbreaks of a modern romance between modern adults, and in many ways it feels like Swift talking about herself. Before 1989, Swift was a bright-eyed teenager in the eyes of the world. The innocent, curly-haired sweetheart singing about her little hometown and her little romances. Of course, at this point it’s been years since Swift was a teen, but that wasn’t really reflected in her image.

But this album, I think, is more than just Swift separating herself from country. It’s also her letting everyone know that she’s a mature adult, a grown-up woman who was interested in experimenting with her sound and her direction. It’s probably good, then, that 1989 was so solid – it formed the springboard by which all of Swift’s future music would leap. Sometimes it would stumble, and sometimes it would fly, but either way it was this baseline that gave it that possibility.

Anyway, next time: we finally meet country Taylor.

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