The Swiftening – Pt 8: “Taylor Swift”

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

We’ve made it. What once seemed like a silly spur-of-the-moment idea a few months ago has finally reached its culmination. Eight albums. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, and most importantly, we’ve changed. I mean, I know I have.

There was something bittersweet about hitting play on Taylor Swift’s self-titled debut album. I’ve really come to enjoy these weekly posts, dissecting this expansive music catalogue. Maybe someday I’ll come back and revisit some of the albums once they get their own Taylor’s Versions (not to mention the high likelihood I’ll review any more new music Swift puts out). I also, to be upfront, have started compiling a Top 30 Taylor Swift song post, but who knows when I’ll finish that up. (Maybe next week… or maybe next week I’ll review Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. We’ll see how I feel.) But really, it feels like the end of an era.

I’m not sure why I felt so drawn to Taylor Swift recently. I’ve gathered a lot of theories as to why she never clicked with me before – some combination of media and internalized misogyny, bad lead singles, and my own hipster self image – but why she connected so hard to me now of all times is a bit of a mystery. I guess the literal reason is that evermore and folklore are quite accessible and inviting albums to even the most discerning cynic. I heard them, liked them, and wanted to check out more of Swift’s work. But why the rest of her music got its hooks in me… I’m not sure. It might just be the sheer volume of it, and the amount of context that surrounds it.

Swift’s music, more than any modern artist I can think of, feels quite indivisible from the time and context it was written in, so you can’t help but get sucked into a void of anecdotes if you so much as dip your toe into it. Much like the Beach Boys, the story of Taylor Swift is just as compelling as the music itself. I also can’t let it go unstated that Swift is an extremely talented songwriter. I guess during a period in my life when I’ve spent a lot of my time alone with my thoughts, there’s something about finding an artist who can just speak to your emotions time and time again.

I think it also might be the community of people who have formed around Swift’s music. As intense as they may be at times, this past few years have made me appreciate the value of a passionate community as a form of escapism. Behind the scenes of these blog posts are countless hours I’ve spent on Taylor Swift twitter and tumblr. TikTok quickly picked up on my Swift research and shoved me onto the enthusiastic and conspiratorial SwiftTok. YouTube quickly began suggesting me fan-made compilations of Swift’s best interview moments and performances. And of course, I have real life friends who love Taylor Swift with usually equal intensity. Usually.

So in a way I’m thankful for these few months of Taylor Swift. I’ve been going through some big changes in my life and it’s been helpful to have a community and an artist to escape to. I’ve also had a really great time writing these reviews. I have a feeling my love of this music would not have formed so intensely had I not set my sights on writing about all of it. Whether that is a blessing or a curse remains to be seen.

All that being said, thank you all for sticking around during this series. Whether you read one and quit or you’ve stuck around this whole time, I appreciate it. I hope you’ve learned something, or had your mind changed at least a little, or have at least enjoyed your time somewhat. I know I have done all of those things.

Without further ado, let’s talk about debut.

Swift’s self-titled debut album came out in 2006. I was eight years old and Swift was 17. At the time, she was an unproven young country artist signed to a small Nashville label. She turned heads when her first single, “Tim McGraw” made it big on many country radio stations. In many ways, “Tim McGraw” feels like the perfect starting point for Swift. She co-wrote it, and it establishes so much of the writing we would see from her going forward. Detailed accounts of a doomed relationship. Dresses, Chevy trucks, faded blue jeans… it’s country, but it’s also Swift.

It’s really no wonder it made it so big, too. Even for me, a person whose life is wildly unaffected by Tim McGraw, there is something nostalgic and relatable about hearing a song or artist and being transported back in time to when you first heard it. As she will many many times for the next fifteen years, Swift finds a clever way to grab her listeners and make them relate to the story she is telling. I think the first lines are also wildly effective storytelling – “You said the way my blue eyes shined / Put those Georgia stars to shame that night / I said ‘That’s a lie’” – it tells volumes about the relationship the song focuses on in three short lines. It’s really impressive stuff.

And that’s how I feel about debut. I came in with pretty low expectations. This is Swift at her youngest and least experienced writing in a genre I don’t consider myself a huge fan of anyway. But it’s a really sweet and charming album, and it makes sense in hindsight that it would be Swift’s gateway into the mega-stardom she would enjoy for the years to come.

This is not to say it’s a perfect album. It certainly isn’t, just look at the choice to follow the sweet, nostalgic ballad of “Tim McGraw” with the angry, roiling “Picture to Burn.” Now, I love this song, don’t get me wrong. I remember sitting on the playground and singing this song in my head to myself. It’s a catchy, fun, angry break-up song with a great hook. But whoever decided it needed to directly follow “Tim McGraw” was… not thinking. Considering how cohesive and well thought-out the order of most of Swift’s other albums are, it was surprising to hear the debut’s slap-dashed order and lack of coherence. It isn’t inexplicable – this is her first album and she was largely inexperienced (plus, who knows how much artistic control she even had at this point, there’s a good chance they just put the two most popular songs up front). It’s worth noting, though, I think, even as I love the energetic, head-banging anger of this song. (I also really appreciate her removing the original lyric “So go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy / That’s fine I’ll tell mine that you’re gay.” We love growth and good decisions.)

The overwhelming mood of Debut is small-town nostalgia and smaller love stories. Probably the most obvious example is a guilty favorite of mine, “Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)”. It’s just about as plain and simple country as you can get, but it works for the story in the song. There’s nothing innovative here, really, but I’m a sucker for love stories that start at childhood. I think being able to tell a story that spans many years is not easy, giving small snippets into a person’s life and making them into a cohesive story. According to Swift, it’s based on the real love story of two of her elderly neighbors, which honestly makes it all the better. The heartfelt strings and the charming refrain “Oh my my my!” works so well, especially when you imagine the real-life people who lived this lifelong love story.

And of course I would be remiss not to mention “Our Song.” For one reason or another its experienced a resurgence of popularity via people recreating the lyrics (to comedic effect) on TikTok. As charming as this song may be, I think I can understand why it’s become the target of gentle ridicule. It’s cheesy and a little by-the-book and Swift’s vocals are, obviously, at their weakest of all of the albums I’ve listened to here. Her thin, tweedy style of singing is on full display. It’s a cute song with a great concept, so I’m excited to hear what a fully mature Swift can do when she recreates this song for her Taylor’s Version.

The vocals become more a problem in tracks like “A Place in this World.” It’s a stripped-down, simple song without much build or variation in tension. It’s the sort of track that really needs a strong vocal to prop it up, so it makes it painfully obvious that Swift is young and untested.

Of course, early on as it may be, it is a Swift album, so there’s heartbreak abound. One sad song I really wanted to love is “Cold as You.” I think the title and hook is clever – “I’ve never been anywhere / Cold as you” – but nothing is really done with that. It’s a flat and uninspired song. Really, it’s another one that I think might be saved with a stronger vocal, so it remains to be seen if that potential could be realized.

A heartbreak song that works a lot better for me is “Should’ve Said No.” It’s a lot angrier, but it doesn’t need to take on the breakneck pace of, say, “Picture to Burn” to illustrate that emotion. The percussive rhythm of the lyrics in the chorus gets across all the anger and heartbreak it needs to. The emphasis on the “No” in the chorus also works well as a boot-stompin’, hand clappin’ moment worthy of any country crowd I can imagine. It’s endearing to see the beginnings of a large and impressive catalogue of Swiftian breakup songs.

The era this song came out is interesting, because so much of it I realized I knew intuitively but had forgotten in the many years since I was eight years old. The one that truly rocked me to my core was “I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” I had no idea that this song was by Swift. I remember listening to it countless times on Radio Disney, back when I used to listen to it to fall asleep every night. In my defense, Swift sounds really different here. Her vocals are oddly low and almost a bit gravelly. It’s not… bad, necessarily. But it is a little odd. The song is saved, though, by the quick and energetic strings and catchy hook.

I also have fond memories of “Teardrops on my Guitar.” While I’m not sure it maintains the same emotional brilliance it held when I first heard it as a kid, there is something so simply touching about it. Perhaps the story of teenage unrequited love is low-hanging fruit, but it’s another simple and effective way of describing the well-trod story path. It’s nothing special beyond what I know it will soon evolve into, but that’s enough to make me fond of it.

And that’s really how I feel about this entire album, I think. It’s rough and immature, thin and a little cliché. But after spending as much time as I have with Swift, I can’t help but be fond of it. It’s clumsy and messy and clearly needs some polish, but it’s also the album that convinced legions of fans to devote themselves to Swift. It was her introduction to the world, before all the media frenzy and heartbreak and drama. It’s almost quaint, a time capsule of a simpler era. Before Joe Jonas and Kanye West. Before Scooter Braun.

Is it my favorite album? Certainly not. But I can’t help but be impressed by it. After all, I finally get to see where the story began.

Thank you all once again for coming with me on this odd journey through the discography of Taylor Swift. I’ll be back next week, but in the meantime, stay beautiful.

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