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Tag: Taylor Swift Midnights

  • Cinderella’s Got to Go: With A Matter of Time, The Clock Strikes Midnight as Laufey Steps Even Further Into Her Own Musical Skin

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    Nothing about Laufey’s musical journey has been conventional. Perhaps the biggest example of that was becoming an “overnight” sensation during the pandemic while posting videos of herself singing her own original music intermixed with some beloved covers. The reaction got Laufey’s attention, and she decided to release an EP without going through the conventional channels of a record label. Titled Typical of Me, the seven-track offering quickly rose up the charts of her “niche” genre, including in the US (climbing all the way to number two on Billboard’s Traditional Jazz Albums and Jazz Albums charts). An impressive feat for a relative unknown who self-published the record. Something that one of Laufey’s obvious influences, Taylor Swift, might have wished she had done instead of signing with Big Machine Records, thus owning all of her masters from the start.

    But then, Swift has always been about the conventional channels for success, complete with sacrificing a college education in favor of putting all her efforts into becoming a teenage country singer. Laufey wasn’t willing to play that game. In fact, despite her own early prosperity on singing competition shows like Ísland Got Talent and The Voice Iceland, she opted to attend Berklee College of Music. And yes, she chose to finish her degree even after realizing the career potential of her virality. So it was that she graduated in 2021, a year after her brush with internet fame. 

    Throughout everything, Laufey can still maintain, as she did to CBS Sunday Morning’s Tracy Smith, “There’s not a single part of myself that has changed my artistic interests to follow some sort of trend.” Which is exactly how Laufey has arrived at an album that is as comfortable in her musical skin as ever. As her third record, A Matter of Time perfects what Everything I Know About Love (2022) and Bewitched (2023) established. Only this time, it’s true that Laufey really is 1) telling you everything she knows about love, having ostensibly experienced it for the first time while in the process of recording the album and 2) she really is bewitched by another: “mere mortal” Charlie Christie. At least, that’s the speculation with the most heat at present, with Laufey neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Such is her belief in separating her personal and professional life. 

    And yet, the personal so clearly bleeds into the professional as a result of her music. And A Matter of Time is perhaps the pinnacle of that reality thus far. Opening with, as an album with this title should, “Clockwork,” Laufey instantly sets the tone for her lovestruck aura on this album. Except, on this particular track, she discusses the unique stress of falling in love when it’s with a friend, singing, “Swore I’d never do this again/Think that I’m so clever I could date a friend.” For, as Vickie Miner (Janeane Garofalo) in Reality Bites, once said, “Sex is the quickest way to ruin a friendship.” Whether or not Laufey’s new love started out as a friend, she certainly seems to know a lot about “the transition” as she continues, “He just called me, said he’s runnin’ late/Like me, he probably had to regurgitate [one of the sickest—pun intended—rhymes in recent memory]/I know it’s irrational, at least I’m self-aware/I’m shivering, maybe I’ll stay home/‘Oh shit, he’s here!’” 

    Once Laufey surrenders to the date, awkwardness or not, she realizes, “I think I might be loving this romantic night/Damn, he’s smiling, staring back at me/We’re at the arcade, think it’s going perfectly/I know I’m dramatic, but I caved in at his touch/I want him forever, oh my God, I’ve said too much.” Appropriately, Laufey originally teased the song on TikTok—an entity her fans are far more familiar with than an analogue clock that makes the “tick tock” sound, like clockwork. As for Laufey’s concluding admission, “But good God, I think he fell in love/Tick tock, and I fell in love too/Like clockwork, I fell in love with you,” it leads quite seamlessly into the sentiments of “Lover Girl,” the third single from A Matter of Time. 

    As a song that explores what happens “after the fall(ing in love),” Laufey is a combination of self-deprecation (“Lovestruck girl, I’d tease her/Thought I’d never be her”) and a puddle of mush (“I can’t wait another day to see you”). Ruing the day she ever “allowed” herself to become a “lover girl.” Of course, it’s not something one can stop once they’ve been hit with Cupid’s arrow (though, if you’re MARINA, you prefer to turn the tables on Cupid). Something Laufey apparently didn’t learn until now, in her mid-twenties. This “late bloomer” energy speaking to the old soul she ostensibly embodies. Along with the clear influence of Old Hollywood movies on the whimsy and romance of the worlds she creates in her songs. Indeed, Laufey is a self-proclaimed lover of Golden Age Hollywood musicals (e.g., Carousel, Oklahoma!, An American in Paris and The Sound of Music), something that shines through in a track like “Lover Girl.” 

    However, if “Lover Girl” is all exuberance and butterflies, Laufey’s aim appears to be to gut-punch her listeners with the tonal shift on “Snow White” (because Cinderella isn’t the only fairy tale heroine reference here) an instant classic in the annals of songs about beauty (or, more specifically, the pressures and impossible expectations on women to “look hot”). Speaking on this topic (still much more pertinent to women than men) also serves as an apropos segue into a song like “Castle in Hollywood,” which explores and dissects the end of a friendship between two women. Undeniably, it’s rare to come across a song like this in pop music, with most female musicians focusing only on their breakups with men. But here, Laufey acknowledges, as she told Rolling Stone, “Most women I know of had a friend breakup that’s just as bad, if not worse than, a romantic breakup. Women have such a strong, deep empathy that it makes friend breakups, especially female friendships, really hard sometimes. It’s a whole lot harder to be like ‘fuck you’ to another woman who’s changed your life in some way. I wish them the best, but I’m also messed up for life because of it.”

    This comes across in the heart-wrenching chorus, “I think about you always/Tied together with a string [more Folklore-era Taylorisms, which tracks since this song is produced by Aaron Dessner, who alternated on song production with Laufey’s usual go-to, Spencer Stewart]/I thought that lilies died by winter, then they bloomed again in spring/It’s a heartbreak/Marked the end of our girlhood/We’ll never go back to our castle in Hollywood.” The implication in that last line being that all the shine has worn off their “fairy tale/happily ever after” friendship. For any girl who’s ever lost a friend they held dear (whether in their formative years or otherwise), this song is sure to resonate. However, despite this being an elegy for a friendship lost, Laufey still finds a way to bring up her new love when she says, “I’m dating the boy that we dreamеd of/I wish I could tell him about us/I wish I could tell you how I finally fell in lovе.”

    Alas, falling in love is hardly the cure for all of Laufey’s ills, as she makes clear on “Carousel” (named, no doubt, in honor of that Hollywood musical she loves so much). The song being, for all intents and purposes, Laufey’s take on Lorde’s “Liability.” That much becomes immediately apparent when she opens the song with the line, “My life is a circus/Hold on for all I bring with me.” This belief that she’s caught in a circus (said in a way that isn’t as triumphant as Britney Spears on “Circus” singing, “All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus”) was further cemented on CBS Sunday Morning when she admitted, “I was always a little bit, like, felt a little bit like a circus act.” In other words, like some kind of “freak.” In meeting this new love of hers, Laufey is accordingly terrified to lose him, confessing, “You make me nervous/Take my sincere apology/For all of my oddities/My recurring comedies/I know I’m on a/Carousel spinning around/Floating up and down.” She then adds, “Such a spectacle/You signed up for one hell of a/One-man show/Tangled in ribbons/A lifelong role/Aren’t you sorry that you fell/Onto this carousel?”

    If he’s a “stand-up guy” (like Lana Del Rey thinks Jeremy Dufrene is), then surely he won’t mind. Even so, Laufey can’t help but think, “I’m waiting for you to see/The things that are wrong with me/Before you’re on my/Carousel spinning around/Floating up and down/Nowhere to go.” Fortunately, the “Silver Lining” is that, whoever this guy is, he does get on the carousel, going round and round with Laufey to the point where she declares on her lead single, “When I go to hell, I’ll go there with you too.” That’s it. That’s the silver lining. Because a girl has to take what she can get when it comes to “ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate-ing the positive,” as Bing and the Andrews Sisters would remind.  

    However, it’s difficult to do that on “Too Little, Too Late,” which is uniquely told from a male perspective (ha! something Taylor hasn’t done in a song yet). And, evidently, Laufey seems to think that men are just as emotional and romantic as women when it comes to “the one that got away.” Accordingly, there’s a palpable tension throughout the song, like this man (as created by Laufey) might burst at the seams with his sense of regret. As Laufey told Rolling Stone, “I wanted [the sound] to be tense the whole time. No distinct chorus, no distinct verse, just a constant uphill and then for it to bang out into a wedding scene. It’s so dramatic.” That it is, concluding with the emotionally eviscerating verse, “I’ll toast outside your wedding day/Whisper vows I’ll never say to you/‘Cause it’s too little, all too late.” Indubitably, it has the ring of Swift tune. But Laufey’s got her own unique stamp, and, after such intense drama, the whimsy of “Cuckoo Ballet (Interlude)” is not only another mark of her uniqueness, but also a much-needed reprieve from the intensity of “Too Little, Too Late.” What’s more, it’s not just some “throwaway” interlude, clocking in at three minutes and forty seconds. At times, sounding like a mashup of instrumentation out of The Nutcracker-meets-one of Laufey’s favorite Old Hollywood musicals, there’s nods to several Laufey songs, including an instrumental of “Lover Girl” (think: “Lover Girl Reprise” or “Lover Girl, Bridgerton Edition”). 

    The dazzling and, at times, bittersweet interlude leads into the even more dazzling and bittersweet “Forget-Me-Not,” an ode to Laufey’s home country of Iceland (now, thanks to her, no longer only associated with Björk). Hence, her decision to record the track in Iceland with the Iceland Symphony. The latter’s contribution lending an even greater emotional depth to the chorus, during which Laufey laments, “Love you forever, don’t let go of me/I left my own homeland to chase reverie/Gleymdu mér aldrei þó ég héðan flýg/Gleymdu mér aldrei, elskan mín.” Those final two lines translating from Icelandic to: “Never forget me even if I fly away from here/Never forget me, my love.”

    Elsewhere, she describes the type of landscape that not everyone would necessarily be “enticed” by…unless they grew up with it: “I miss the wind, stone cold kiss on my cheeks/Bends in your body, the hope of your spring/Millions now hear my soliloquy/I’m still that child on a black sand beach” (and now, so is Addison Rae in the “Headphones On” video). To be sure, Laufey sings of her homeland as though she’s singing to a lover she had to leave behind, admitting as much to Rolling Stone when she said, “This song sounds like a love letter to a guy.”

    But what doesn’t sound like that at all is the track that follows, “Tough Luck” (which served as the second single from the album). Combining the songwriting styles and tones of Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo, Laufey lays into this ex about all of his own shortcomings despite him being the one to try making her feel inadequate the entire time. But no, Laufey isn’t having it, confidently giving it right back when she declares, “You think you’re so misunderstood/The black cat of your neighborhood/Tough luck, my boy, your time is up/I’ll break it first, I’ve had enough/Of waiting ‘til you lie and cheat/Just like you did to the actress before me/Oops, she doesn’t even know/You won’t be missed, I’m glad to see you go.” 

    Alas, despite all her cool, “I’m so over you” posturing, “A Cautionary Tale” is yet another track that indicates she’s just a heart-on-her-sleeve-wearing fool who can’t let go. “Born to be a giver [much like Chappell Roan]/Destined to pay the toll,” Laufey tries to use her own sad story as a cautionary tale to whoever is listening and might find themselves falling prey to l’amour. Even if, by Laufey’s own account, A Matter of Time is “about opening yourself up to a lover, or a person, or the entire world, giving them every single part of yourself.” Even if you know the extreme risk involved in making yourself so vulnerable. Only to regret it when another person (inevitably) disappoints you, as Laufey analyzes in the chorus, “I gave it too much, I gave myself up/I lost sight of all my dignity/I’ve always been smart, my chameleon heart/Took your draining personality and gave it to me/I wanted to please you, this performance of a lifetime/My heart to you handed, you took it for granted/And made me the villain.” Or, as Taylor would say, “I don’t like your little games/Don’t like your tilted stage/The role you made me play/Of the fool, no, I don’t like you.” 

    However, Laufey switches back to Rodrigo-style lyrics when she mourns, “And I can’t fix you, God, I tried, the hourglass I shattered just in time.” Yet another evocative image that brings to mind a now antiquated timepiece. After all, A Matter of Time is all about the clock running out. Which is why it makes plenty of sense that Laufey would describe the tone of the record as “that moment when Cinderella finds out it’s struck midnight and she’s running.” As for the whole “midnights” and clock thing being “already done” by Taylor with, what else, Midnights (complete with a Cinderella-themed video for “Bejeweled”), it’s really Kylie Minogue that Laufey appears to be borrowing from the most via her album cover, which looks ever so much like the cover of Minogue’s greatest hits album, Step Back in Time: The Definitive Collection (including the way Minogue, too, is posed like her legs are the hands of the clock). 

    But, with the next song, “Mr. Eclectic” (not to be confused with Taylor’s “Mr. Perfectly Fine”) Laufey is not only “borrowing” from Sabrina Carpenter, but also herself, with an opening that mirrors the tempo and bossa nova stylings of “Lover Girl,” and a theme that echoes the shade-throwing of “Tough Luck.” As for the Carpenter comparison, it’s all in lyrics that smack of Short n’ Sweet’s “Dumb & Poetic,” particularly when SC sings, “Try to come off like you’re soft and well-spoken/Jack off to lyrics by Leonard Cohen.” Laufey feels the same about “Mr. Eclectic,” of whom she accuses, “Bet you think you’re so poetic/Quoting epics and ancient prose/Truth be told, you’re quite pathetic/Mister Eclectic Allan Poe.” In another Short n’ Sweet kind of moment (specifically, on “Slim Pickins,” when Carpenter bemoans, “This boy doesn’t even know/The difference between ‘there,’ ‘their’ and ‘they are’/Yet he’s naked in my room”), Laufey berates, “Did you еver stop and give a wonder to/Who just who you wеre talking to?/The very expert on the foolish things/That men have said to woo and win me over/What a poser, you think you’re so interesting.” 

    Having purged herself of such “toxic types,” Laufey can finally breathe some proverbial “Clean Air.” This being the metaphor she wields on the penultimate track of the digital version of the album (with the vinyl version also including a bonus track of Laufey’s cover of “Seems Like Old Times”). With its sparse guitar strings that gradually transition into a country-like rhythm, Laufey happily—even chirpily—announces, “My soul has suffered, get the fuck out of my atmosphere/I’m breathing clean, clean air.” It’s a lot like Britney Spears’ own purging of a toxic boyfriend-turned-ex (in her case, it retroactively sounds directed at Justin Timberlake), telling him on her 2001 track, “Cinderella,” “I’m sorry, just trying to live my life/Don’t worry, you’re gonna be alright/But Cinderella’s got to go.” This doesn’t refer to the scene of “Cindy” running away from the prince when the clock strikes midnight, but rather, telling her now ex that she can no longer be the subservient, docile woman he counted on and took for granted for so long. She’s freeing herself of that burden, as Laufey is on many occasions throughout A Matter of Time. 

    But it’s with “Sabotage,” the poignant slow jam of a denouement, that Laufey cuts to the core of her relationship issues. And, more often than not, they have to do with how, as she self-criticizes, “I get in my head so easily I don’t understand, I’m my worst enemy/You assure me you love me and seal it with a kiss/I can’t be convinced.” In this sense, the song obviously should have been called “Self-Sabotage.” Echoing the lyrical motifs and fears expressed on “Carousel,” Laufey takes her phobia of ruining a perfectly good relationship to the next level by warning her lover, “It’s just a matter of time ‘til you see the dagger/It’s a special of mine to cause disaster/So prepare for the impact, and brace your heart/For cold, bloody, bitter sabotage” (in Taylor speak, that translates to, “Combat, I’m ready for combat/I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?…/ I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey/Who could ever leave me, darling?/But who could stay?). The sweeping, trippy musical outro then mimics something out of The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, complete with the abrupt stopping point in the instrumentation. A jarring cut, as though the clock has run out. 

    And, to that end, the title of the album has a two-pronged meaning. On the one (clock) hand, it’s just a matter of time before you fall in love. On the other, it’s just a matter of time before the clock starts running out on the romance (or, to quote Lana Del Rey, “You and I/We were born to die”). The overall positive side of it (because “you’ve got to ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the positive/E-lim-i-nate the negative”), though, is that at least Laufey is teaching younger generations how a clock actually works. 

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Introvert’s Conundrum When Pitted Against the Extrovert’s Will

    The Introvert’s Conundrum When Pitted Against the Extrovert’s Will

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    Taylor Swift did a couple things in the span of one award acceptance on Grammy night that elicited polarized reactions. And, considering that Swift, in her role as America’s sweetheart, rarely does anything to polarize people, it was a big deal. Some may automatically assume that what one is referring to is her blatant disregard for Celine Dion’s presence on the stage as she stood there awkwardly waiting to be acknowledged in some way, any way by the Album of the Year winner when she walked up to collect her bounty (which was in stark contrast to how Miley Cyrus gushed over Mariah Carey during her entire acceptance speech for Best Pop Solo Performance). Instead, Swift acted like a frat boy only paying attention to his “homies” as she hugged those she deemed partly responsible for her album’s success. 

    Obviously, Dion wasn’t someone she put in that category. But Lana Del Rey, clearly, was. Which is why Swift performed another polarizing act in one fell swoop by forcefully taking Del Rey onstage with her. Not just because she contributed vocals to “Snow on the Beach” that were initially undetectable until Swift released yet another version of Midnights (ergo, another money grab), but because, per Swift’s assessment, “I think so many female artists would not be where they are and would not have the inspiration they have if it weren’t for the work that she’s done.” 

    She’s not saying that she’s one of those artists, of course. For, after all, Swift was “on the scene,” fame-wise, years before Del Rey, with no one to look to for inspiration except Shania Twain and Faith Hill (and it shows). But at least she can acknowledge that musicians such as Billie Eilish weren’t exactly trying to emulate her. Or Dion, for that matter. Certainly not Swift, who kept looking behind her while onstage at anyone else she could thank except for Dion, grasping at, “I wanna say thank you to Serban Ghenea, Sam Dew, Soundwave…Lana Del Rey, who is hiding.” Ah yes, as most introverted people who didn’t want to be dragged onto a stage in a very public venue against their will tend to do. Something she made crystal clear with her resisting body language. But Swift seemed to realize at the last second that it might behoove her to take LDR up onstage to prove her female solidarity shtick was genuine, knowing full well that many fans of Del Rey’s were praying (and perhaps foolishly assuming) she would win for Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, since she couldn’t even manage to snag any of the other awards she was nominated for, namely Best Pop Duo/Group Performance (for her collaboration with Jon Batiste on “Candy Necklace”), Song of the Year (for “A&W”), Best Alternative Music Album and Best Alternative Music Performance. Thus, briefly remembering the way in which Lana fans treat her like Jesus far more than Taylor’s do, she did a “cover your ass” move by bringing Del Rey onstage. To think otherwise, is more than slightly naive. 

    Before having this “calculated” revelation, Swift momentarily forgot she was at the same table as Del Rey so she could embrace Jack Antonoff, the man who seems to be perennially serving as the middle of a female musician sandwich. But especially this female musician sandwich. The camera itself juggled (or “toggled between,” if you prefer) getting reaction shots of both Del Rey and Antonoff when the award was announced. And watching Del Rey herself juggle the emotions of being upset over losing (for there’s no denying that she genuinely believed this would be the album that would finally get recognized) and trying to bounce back quickly so she can be happy for her friend, it’s apparent that the last thing she wants to do is have to grapple with those conflicting emotions in front of not just an entire room of people, but an entire nation of them watching at home. 

    As Antonoff presumes to take the credit for it all by leading the way to the stage, Del Rey tries to laugh off Swift’s attempt at pulling her up there, trying to resist at the same time so that Swift gets the message: no, this isn’t really what I want to do. Swift, being the alpha that she is, doesn’t take no for an answer and continues to drag her until Del Rey stops fighting it so that the optics on the whole awkward situation don’t look so bad. And, well, very uncomfortable. Because it is uncomfortable to have to watch someone doing something they obviously don’t want to. And when introverts are feeling low, they certainly don’t want to have to have those emotions broadcast, literally, to millions of people. Yet, the dichotomy is that, without Swift doing what she did, Del Rey would have stayed under the radar to a whole slew of people in the “flyover states.” The states, in fact, that she likes visiting the most. 

    With this conundrum in mind, there’s a joke about introverts that gets bandied around sometimes, something to the effect of: “Any introvert you ever met was because they were friends with an extrovert.” Del Rey suffered that phenomenon and then some at the 2024 Grammys, enduring the introvert’s dilemma of hating attention but also wanting to be given credit when it’s due. 

    Pulled onto the stage by a woman with nothing but “good intentions,” it was as though Del Rey became the victim of her own spouted lines from 2020, in the wake of her “question for the culture”: “I’m sorry that a couple of the girls I talked to, who were mentioned in that post, have a super different opinion of my insight, especially because we’ve been so close for so long. But it really, again, makes you reach into the depth of your own heart and say, ‘Am I good-intentioned?’ And of course, for me, the answer is always yes.” Naturally, that’s going to be the answer from anyone’s subjective viewpoint, no matter what they’re doing. Even Putin and Netanyahu think what they’re doing is “good-intentioned” when they reach into the depth of their own “hearts” and ask if they are. 

    At another point, Swift gushed of Del Rey, “I think that she’s a legacy artist, a legend in her prime right now. I’m so lucky to know you and to be your friend.” This adding to a vibe that only served to make Del Rey look pitiable and pathetic rather than praiseworthy. As though Swift was putting more of a highlight on what a “loser” Del Rey was for not getting the award rather than how “cool” she is. With Swift being of the Never Been Kissed philosophy, “All you need is for one person to think you’re cool, and you’re in.” But based on some of the winners that night (and throughout the ceremony’s past), does Del Rey really want to be deemed “cool” by the Recording Academy?

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • There Should Be Two Movie Theater Options For the Eras Tour Film: One For People Who Just Want To Sit There Without Clapping, Dancing and Singing and One For People Who Want to Do the Exact Opposite

    There Should Be Two Movie Theater Options For the Eras Tour Film: One For People Who Just Want To Sit There Without Clapping, Dancing and Singing and One For People Who Want to Do the Exact Opposite

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    Maybe it was unfathomable to movie distributors that anyone other than a “bona fide Swiftie” would bother showing up to the Eras Tour film. After all, is there really any such thing as a “casual” Taylor Swift listener at this point? For the entire “purpose” of Swift’s music has become a matter of pride in proving that one has followed it from the start, tracked all the “Easter eggs,” read between all the lines about who each song is alluding to. This is, in part, what differentiates the “real” Swifties from the faux and fairweather ones. 

    And yet, whether one wants to be or not, the Eras Tour has rendered everybody a Swiftie. What with the nonstop coverage of it that began from the moment tickets went on sale, setting off a larger conversation about Ticketmaster’s monopoly over the ticket sales industry. The issue no one wanted to acknowledge at all, of course, is that the notion of presales altogether promotes a grotesque form of elitism when it comes to fandom, and spotlights how class infects every facet of culture. In other words, there is no “egalitarian experience,” not even when it comes to enjoying music. But no, that’s not what upset Swifties and status symbol flexers (e.g., billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg who showed up to the Santa Clara date) alike in this scenario. Rather, it was the idea that even concert-going had become a competitive sport in the era of devout fandom. Sure, Swift’s stadium tours, including the Red Tour and the 1989 Tour, never had any difficulty selling out before, but this was something entirely different. This was the greatest reflection yet that Swift had officially become: The Biggest Thing on the Planet! And also, per “the economists,” a reaction to the demand shock that was fueled by a public still thirsting to forget 2020-2021 ever happened by getting out and enjoying the things that were stripped away from them previously—like Taylor Swift concerts. In fact, 2020 was to be the year Swift embarked on a tour in support of Lover, conceptualized around the festival motif. Thus, she called it Lover Fest. Later deemed one of the biggest concert “what ifs” that became just another casualty of COVID-19. 

    Swift’s determination to make up for lost time has manifested in the far more juggernaut-y approach of the Eras Tour. A colossus many times larger than the scale of what she had planned for Lover Fest. And with Swift back out on the road after releasing five albums since her last tour (three of them new, two of them re-recorded), there was no one (save for those with more pressing survival issues at hand) that could pretend they weren’t interested in or curious about the Eras Tour and what it might contain. And unlike, say, Madonna’s Sex book in 1992, which experienced a similar media furor, no one was “turning their nose up at it while still being interested in it” (to paraphrase Madonna on the reaction to her tawdry tome). Quite the contrary, everyone is happy to admit their joyful, enthusiastic interest. What’s more, Swift’s entire career has been built on the kind of wholesomeness that has allowed her to transform into the first case of monoculture since Friends. Unless one counts the Barbie frenzy that also happened to take place over the same summer as the Eras Tour. Either way, it’s clear that blonde white girls are a perennial commodity. 

    That said, of course even “middle of the road” fans would want to check out the Eras Tour in theaters. Because to not experience the tour in this way, at the very least, would be to miss out on something that “literally” everyone else is talking about. In point of fact, that seems like the real reason (apart from raking in many more millions) that Swift chose to release the tour in theaters while it’s still making its journey around the world in real life: to offer a chance for everyone to feel connected through monoculture. Because, even for as apolitical as she is, it’s apparent that the world—and the “United” States in particular—could use some sense of unity to grasp at. Even if it’s through something as “frivolous” as pop culture. 

    Unfortunately, what proves to cause disunity in all this is the fact that there are two kinds of Eras Tour moviegoers: those who just want to sit and watch the concert in silence as they would at a “regular” movie and those who want to treat the viewing like an actual concert. Meaning it’s “okay” to sing along loudly, get up out of your seat and generally cause a commotion. Even if there are schools of thought on concert-going that also negate the idea that this is how it should be when people see a live show. For instance, even Swift acolyte/friend Lorde famously got irritated by the crowd singing along during a vulnerable a capella version of “Writer in the Dark” in 2017 that surfaced as a viral compilation video in 2022. Although some might have hoped Lorde was a one-woman advocate for “civilized behavior” at concerts, she was quick to respond to the sudden virality of the video by assuring, “The internet has decided that this was very bad and very rude. I think they haven’t come to one of these shows because, you know, it’s such a communal vibe. We’re all singing and screaming all the time. But I think occasionally there are moments for silence, and there are moments for sound.” 

    Those in the theater audience of the Eras Tour would beg to differ, instead exhibiting the idea that, when it comes to Swift, the moments are always for sound, i.e. the raucous parroting of lyrics. Yet to the sect of moviegoers (and they are out there) who want to watch it “Daria-style”—a.k.a. just sitting there with a blank expression—the theaters of the world would do well to carve out a separate auditorium for the “quiet camp” of Eras Tour viewers. But, as usual, the Swifties win, with “theaters… relax[ing] their rules around talking, standing and phone use for the Eras Tour.” And even the Swifties themselves would assume that only die-hards might show up, with one fan remarking, “I’m so happy that she did that. I feel like I didn’t miss out that much. I feel like I got to experience it, at least with like-minded people.” “Like-minded” usually being a term for political affiliations rather than fandoms. But then, Taylor Swift is her own political and economic ideology. Even when it comes to the movies.

    Thus, tragically, as in all things, the shy, introverted set is constantly forced to endure the barbaric customs of the extroverts. Or, in this more specific instance, the Swifties compelled by the power of Taylor.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • “I Keep My Side of the Street Clean”—Not!: Taylor Swift’s Garbage (Not to Be Confused With Taylor Swift Is Garbage)

    “I Keep My Side of the Street Clean”—Not!: Taylor Swift’s Garbage (Not to Be Confused With Taylor Swift Is Garbage)

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    Like most things that the hoi polloi are expected to endure/“deal with,” celebrities and the otherwise wealthy are not. For someone of Taylor Swift’s caliber (financially speaking), that certainly applies tenfold. And if that wasn’t already made apparent from the public release of her carbon footprint that reported her as emitting 8,293.54 tonnes of carbon a year thanks to private jet-setting alone, then maybe her latest example of “It’s me, hi. I’m the problem, it’s me” will make it undeniably clear. And that is: her blasé attitude about trash. More specifically, disposing of it in a manner that would be expected of a “plebe.”

    But before we get to that, let us remember that Swift perhaps ultimately skirted a full-tilt backlash against the private jet controversy by claiming that the majority of the flights taken were a result of loaning out her jet. As though that somehow made her inculpable just because her bony ass allegedly wasn’t in the seat. What’s more, the report of Swift’s numerous flights came out at the same time as records of Kylie Jenner’s twenty-minute flights were released. Flights that could have been a slightly longer drive between Riverside and L.A. Counties. Jenner confirmed her own outrageous behavior by posting an image she thought was going to “serve” in July of 2022—featuring her in “Hollywood embrace” pose with her equally atrocious baby daddy, Travis Scott, as the two stood in between their respective private jets, captioned with the braggadocious question, “You wanna take mine or yours?”

    With Jenner being instantly lambasted as a climate criminal (where’s the lie?), Swift’s crown as the reigning queen of private jet usage ultimately got lost in the shuffle of broad-spectrum outrage over private plane rides (with Britney Spears perhaps being the only one to get a “pass” as a result of all she’s been through). And any thoughts of Swift as someone “criminal” eventually “petered out” once she released another album, and America was reminded again of just how much they love their sweetheart (grotesque little CO2 emitter or not). Even if, with Midnights, it seemed Taylor was actually trolling people a bit with a line (from the climate change-y “Snow on the Beach” no less) like, “And my flight was awful/Thanks for asking.” Of course, that’s hard to believe when considering the lavish accommodations of a private jet she calls “The Number 13.” A number she has long considered to be lucky, as a matter of fact—referencing it in songs and videos galore and, as mentioned, opting to brandish it as the moniker of her personal plane, to boot. So yeah, if it ever crashed, that surely might change her views on the digit bearing something like luck, rendering her just another average person with a case of triskaidekaphobia.

    But getting to her latest case of environmentally-unfriendly behavior, Swift has come under fire (mainly by the New York Sanitation Department) for her less than exemplary “disposal” methods. To that end, ironically enough, Swift also boasts on Midnights (during “Karma”), “I keep my side of the street clean/You wouldn’t know what I mean.” Evidently, she’s the one who doesn’t even know what she means, relying on the tried-and-true “just make it go away with money” method that most celebrities are inclined to. After all, what’s the point of being a celebrity if you can’t enjoy such “perks” in exchange for the violation of your privacy? Such perks being to pay thousands of dollars in fines to avoid actually keeping your side of the street clean—all while your privacy is invaded by way of habits being revealed through the exposure of your trash. Something that media outlets are only too happy to report on (including, but not limited to, the presence of liquor bottles and cigarettes butts…how Olsen twins circa the 00s-esque).

    Nonetheless, it doesn’t seem to bother Swift that much. Or at least not enough to clean up a.k.a. hire someone else to do the job. For, as of July 2023, Swift has been ticketed thirty-two times by the New York Sanitation Department and fined roughly three thousand dollars (which amounts to three cents for a person of Swift’s echelon) for her inability 1) dispose of her trash correctly, 2) failing to keep the front area of her building clean and 3) generally parading a dirty sidewalk year-round—regardless of being on tour or not. Considering Swift essentially “owns” the block she inhabits on Franklin Street in Tribeca, she’s the only one responsible for “keeping this place clean,” to quote Prince’s dad in Purple Rain.

    Naturally, Swifties were quick to come to the defense of their beloved “mother,” assuring, “It’s probably the fans waiting for her and smoking while they’re bored.” Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t change the reality that Swift is the one responsible for maintaining the cleanliness of the block she’s made her own private island on an island. What’s more, who’s to say that she doesn’t smoke now and again? For, despite her “squeaky clean” image—complete with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Aryan aesthetic—Swift has broken away from it in the years since she went from country to pop star, going on to—gasp!—swear in her lyrics and openly drink in public/on camera (her affinity for wine being well-known by now). Indeed, her love of the drink is just about the only thing that’s made her a “baddie,” while her foil, Lana Del Rey, instead relies on vaping and smoking since she gave up drinking long ago after her teenage bout with alcoholism. In short, regardless of her fans’ disbelief that “pure” Taylor could bear such trash herself, the report stating that “there are cigarette packs, stacks of newspapers, liquor bottles, cardboard boxes and ashtrays scattered on the sidewalk” actually does jive with Swift’s lifestyle, as well as the company she keeps. Being so convinced she’s a “New York bohemian” and all.

    Those who aren’t defending her and trying to say it’s not her fault (including Swift herself, who seems to be fighting the charges on “principle” alone—because, again, 3K is nothing to her) are instead commending the “bad bitch” contents of her waste. Namely, Charli XCX, who retweeted one of the headlines about Swift’s trash with the caption, “My kinda girl.” And yet, increasingly, Swift has proven herself to be no one’s kind of girl. At least not in terms of displaying the level of consideration required of somebody who wants to truly set an example for others about not being so reckless with the climate’s well-being just because you “can be”/claim you “have to be” (“for work”). Alas, money is a celebrity’s multifaceted superpower as much as any corporate shill at the top of the company food chain. A “superpower” that serves as the driving force behind why the environment continues to be pillaged and violated in such vast and ceaseless ways. Then again, perhaps Swift should be commended for ultimately helping to “end” New York sooner.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • A Tale of Two Parises: Lana’s and Taylor’s/(So-Called) Whites’ and Arabs’

    A Tale of Two Parises: Lana’s and Taylor’s/(So-Called) Whites’ and Arabs’

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    The outskirts of Paris continue to burn in the wake of another grotesque (but sadly, not unfathomable) instance of police brutality. And this on the heels of Paris itself already burning after the nonstop protests against Macron raising the retirement age from sixty-two years old to sixty-four years old as a result of invoking the notorious article 49.3 of the French constitution, which allows the president to enact a law without a vote from parliament. A parliament that would have surely caused, at the bare minimum, a deadlock on any such vote—with the ideological divide between left and right being pretty much the same in any country. And yet, as far as Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey are concerned, “Paris” still signifies nothing but romance and (false) idealization. Even if both women are referring to two entirely different Parises altogether. Just as, depending on your skin tone, two versions of Paris exist.

    It would be nice to say that one of the chanteuses is actually referring to the “real” Paris—that is, the one where a police officer will shoot a teen of North African (a.k.a. Arab) descent named Nahel Merzouk while he’s pulled over for a traffic violation. Of course, many people won’t count Nanterre as part of Paris or its long-standing racism. But to exclude the “suburbs” of Paris from considering what the city “means” is an all-too-common mistake. One that allows romanticism to persist in the face of blatantly ignoring that Paris is no Disneyland (despite being home to Euro Disney a.k.a. Disneyland Paris…appropriately enough, also located in the city’s outskirts).

    Nonetheless, Swift is the first to equate “Paris” with some sort of fantasy realm where reality can be avoided. Her “reality” consisting of constantly being stalked by fans and paparazzi alike as they dissect her every move and relationship. So it is that she chirps of imagining herself somewhere else with her man, “I was taken by the view/Like we were in Paris/Like we were somewhere else/Like we were in Paris, oh.” Her wistful intonation and delivery builds on the enduring lore that Paris is a place one escapes to (as opposed to being a place one wants to escapes from). That it is an emblem of freedom, endless possibility, etc. Something that a girl like “Tay Tay” would certainly do nothing to discourage. For her entire oeuvre favors only melodrama as opposed to actual drama—a true crisis. Such as the one that has existed within the justice system since time immemorial.

    Perhaps because Del Rey’s “Paris, Texas” isn’t about the Paris, it gives way more willingly to something like realism (even if still drenched in its own kind of faux plaintiveness). Complete with Del Rey admitting that, “When you know, you know/It’s time, it’s time to go” after already painting the picture, “I went to Paris (Texas)/With a suitcase in my hand/I had to leave/Knew they wouldn’t understand.” And who (but those of Nahel’s skin tone) could possibly understand ever wanting to leave Paris? Least of all Swift, who wants a “privacy sign on the door”—likely at Le Crillon or Le Meurice, both of which she’s stayed at during her numerous stints in the City of Light. This being one of her many “evocative” descriptions in “Paris,” along with how “romance is not dead if you keep it just yours/Levitate above all the messes made.”

    One such “mess” (to use understatement) being the wrath incurred by those who will not stand for what happened to Nahel or any number of men and women of color who this has happened to or will happen to. That wrath has spread over days of unrest, consisting of burning cars, buildings (mostly those harboring French bureaucratic institutions) and trash, and clashing with police as general mayhem is incited in response to the unapologetic blatancy with which systemic racism continues to flourish. And it’s of a variety that does not permit those of a non-white skin tone to romanticize Paris (or its “outlying” areas) in any way, shape or form. Meanwhile, Swift can happily prattle on, “I’m so in love that I might stop breathing [people of color instead “might” stop breathing because a police officer has shot or choked them]/Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling/No, I didn’t see the news/‘Cause we were somewhere else.” Not just physically, but mentally—with that statement about not seeing the news being a sign of white privilege. Because, to be sure, unless a rich white person sees something “untoward” happening directly in their periphery, they’re not likely to notice anything other than the status quo—because they damn sure ain’t botherin’ with the news.

    As for Del Rey, her Paris is located in a (theoretically) more racist locale: Texas. Lacking the shine and glitz of the more famous city in France, this small town in Northeastern Texas still has the same racist “philosophies” (so frequently put into practice) that people are seeing come to greater light in the French Paris at this moment. Although it’s long been there, with similar riotous crests after the deaths or aggravated assaults of other Black and/or Arab men (including Amine Bentounsi, Théo Luhaka, Cédric Chouviat and Adama Traoré), the “magic” of France so often causes outsiders to have blinders to the unbridled reality that it is a country with as much racism as the next (often because of a history rooted in colonialism). And, at this instant, it’s not looking so different in that regard from Paris, Texas. Site of numerous violent race relations incidents over the centuries, and, thus, fittingly known for being the location where a lynching was photographed for the first time (with the victim in question being Henry Smith). In this regard, Del Rey’s “Paris” serves as a foil to Swift’s that grounds the French one in reality. A reality that’s not manifest whatsoever in Swiftian lyrics such as, “Stumbled down pretend alleyways/Cheap wine, make believe it’s champagne/I was taken by the view/Like we were in Paris, oh.”

    As if such twee fantasies weren’t enough, Swift continues, “I wanna brainwash you/Into loving me forever/I wanna transport you/To somewhere the culture’s clever/Confess my truth/In swooping, sloping, cursive letters/Let the only flashing lights be the tower at midnight/In my mind.” The “tower” she’s referring to, of course, could be none other than the Eiffel, with its signature flashing lights. And especially its rotating light ray at the top that not only mimics the lighthouse effect, but also the spotlight effect that occurs when a prison break happens. Needless to say, at this juncture, France feels like a prison many people (of color) want to escape from in terms of having none of the same freedoms as those of a certain “look” and class. In short, there is no “liberté, égalité, fraternité” for those who are a “high-risk” color in the eyes of the Establishment—which is, sadly, best embodied by police forces (in France and throughout the world).

    When Swift wraps up her song with the lines, “‘Cause we were in Paris/Yes, we were somewhere else/My love, we were in Paris,” she reminds that the so-called whites of Paris are, in fact, somewhere else. In a dimension alternate from the one where somebody such as Nahel lives (or rather, lived). And while the concluding lyrics to Del Rey’s “Paris, Texas” might pertain to always going with your gut and taking a risk on making a mistake (something most people of color don’t have the luxury of doing…whether in general or vis-à-vis choosing a place to briefly “settle down”), within the context of amoral and immoral police brutality, it sounds positively eerie to hear: “When you’re right, you’re right/Even when you’re wrong.”

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Odes to Willful Oblivion: Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” and Miley Cyrus’ “Rose Colored Lenses”

    Odes to Willful Oblivion: Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” and Miley Cyrus’ “Rose Colored Lenses”

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    Talk of being in the initial throes of an intense love (or, at least, an intense infatuation) is nothing new in terms of fodder for pop songs. In truth, it’s what most pop songs—the “timeless” ones, anyway—are renowned for. Because, in addition to Jane Austen novels and rom-coms, they peddle the beloved lie of a love that can last forever. Not just any love though: a passionate one that burns and endures long after the honeymoon phase. And yet, with Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” and Miley Cyrus’ “Rose Colored Lenses” being released on the heels of one another (with the former put out as a single in November of 2022 and the latter unveiled on Cyrus’ Endless Summer Vacation in March of this year), the subject of being willfully caught in the veil of amorous illusion (presumably in a shade of lavender or pink) has made a surprising comeback. While one might have formerly associated such talk of young love (meaning a new love in general, not merely or solely being of a “young age” and also being in love) with the 1950s (e.g., The Platters’ “Only You,” The Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes For You” and Dean Martin’s “That’s Amore”), it seems that Swift and Cyrus each want to do their part to remind audiences that a “pop song kind of love” remains possible. Even in this epoch of sex robots and AI.

    With the aforementioned 50s in mind, it’s only appropriate that Swift extrapolated the title of “Lavender Haze” from none other than the “Golden Age of Television” itself. A term that Mad Men revitalized in a season two episode called “The Mountain King.” In it, Don tells Anna Draper (Melinda Page Hamilton), the widowed wife of the real Don Draper, that he’s met a girl. In this case, Betty (January Jones). Seeing the way he lights up when he talks about her, Anna remarks, “Look at you. You’re in the lavender haze.” At this time, it would have been the late 50s, so it tracks when Swift noted of the song, “…it turns out that it was a common phrase that was used in the 50s where they would just describe being in love. Like, if you were in the ‘Lavender Haze,’ that meant you were in that all-encompassing love glow, and I thought that was really beautiful.” Even if also kind of vomit-inducing.

    As for Cyrus, she opted to use a more conventional, widely-known expression by turning “rose colored glasses” into “rose colored lenses” for a song that very much echoes the sentiments presented in “Lavender Haze.” Chief among them wanting to stay in the bubble that a freshly-brewing love can accommodate. One characterized by sex-stained sheets and never leaving the bedroom. Cyrus addresses this indelible image (a common cliché for good reason) in the lyrics, “We could stay like this forever/Lost in wonderland/With our head above the clouds/Fallin’ stupid like we’re kids/Wearin’ rose colored lenses/Let’s just play pretend.”

    Indeed, that’s exactly what Swift wants to keep doing as well, even as the curious, prying eyes of the media start to encroach upon her. This much is addressed in that portion of “Lavender Haze” that goes, “I just wanna stay in that lavender haze…/Talk your talk and go viral/I just need this love spiral/Get it off your chest/Get it off my desk.” In other words, let a bitch keep fucking in peace without media gossip buzzing in her ear. And yet, as Swift acknowledged, even the hoi polloi are subjected to their lavender haze being burst sooner and with more ease in this modern era of social media. So it was that she remarked of its relatability to the “commoner,” “I guess theoretically when you’re in the ‘Lavender Haze,’ you’ll do anything to stay there and not let people bring you down off of that cloud. And I think a lot of people have to deal with this now—not just, like, quote-unquote public figures—because we live in the era of social media and if the world finds out that you’re in love with somebody, they’re gonna weigh in on it.”

    Cyrus clearly feels the same way about protecting a new relationship’s privacy as she croons, “Let’s just play pretend/Wearin’ rose colored lenses/Pretend we’ll never end/Naked in conversation/Drown me in your delight/Endless summer vacation/Make it last ’til we die.” When Cyrus refers to a “death” here, however, it seems to allude more to the Lana Del Rey sense of it when she woefully laments of being a couple in love before the inevitable breakup, “You and I/We were born to die.” But until then, Cyrus insists that they “make a mess of a nice hotel.”

    Swift, too, exhibits the sort of willful naïveté (read: denial) that makes her capable of ignoring reality for as long as possible. Six years, to be exact. For that was the extent of her “lavender haze” with Joe Alwyn, the muse who inspired the track (as he did numerous others of Swift’s from Reputation onward). As for the other “muse” of the single—the 50s—funnily enough, Swift mocks the very decade (and its narrow-minded views of women) that’s technically responsible for creating the song at all. This despite overtly paying homage to that period in time when love—specifically, “fresh love”—was painted with the very rose colored lenses Cyrus also speaks to in her song of the same name. Nonetheless, Swift rebuffs “quaint” 50s ideas via the lines, “All they keep askin’ me/Is if I’m gonna be your bride/The only kind of girl they see/Is a one-night or a wife,” in addition to, “Surreal, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say/No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me.”

    In the end, though, it’s “1950s shit” that both Swift and Cyrus (along with so many others) patently want out of love. Which is why they know they must keep their tinted haze/glasses up for as long as possible in order to continue fostering the delusion that such a thing can exist. As everyone must…before the smoke clears, the tint of the glasses dissipates and all we see in front of us is a hideous monster that makes us want to take a Lysol shower as a result of ever allowing them access to our body and mind.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • “Snow on the Beach,” Climate Change Child’s Play, Doesn’t Provide the Best Simile For Evoking the “Unusual” Phenomenon of Falling in Requited Love

    “Snow on the Beach,” Climate Change Child’s Play, Doesn’t Provide the Best Simile For Evoking the “Unusual” Phenomenon of Falling in Requited Love

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    Even when “Snow on the Beach” was “first” released on the first iteration of Taylor Swift’s Midnights, “all the way back” in October of 2022, it was already a stretch to liken something “weird” (i.e., falling in requited love with someone) to snow falling on the beach. Because if the past several years should have taught people—even those in a protective bubble like Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey—anything, it’s that formerly “absurd” weather phenomena are now to be the norm (along with arbitrarily unleashed novel viruses). Nay, they are the norm. And, although some wouldn’t expect it, it is, in fact, rising temperatures that can eventually result in extremely cold weather scenarios. More specifically, “Ice Age” weather scenarios.

    Take, for example, the “cold blob” of water that has come to roost in the area south of Greenland. Its origins are a result of melting glaciers—melting ever more rapidly as we keep ordering our useless shit from the internet. And yet, despite the scalding temperatures that are visiting Earth at present, the effect those temperatures have on “water blobs” like the one south of Greenland influence the flow of the Gulf Stream, which is responsible for “ferrying” warm water to the north. If that flow is compromised enough, the litany of consequences could include, but are not limited to, a steep drop in temperatures throughout Europe, rising sea levels on the East Coast and more ferocious, unpredictable hurricanes. And that’s just on the Atlantic side of things. The Pacific has its own barrage of ticking time bombs.

    The bottom line, of course, is that seeing snow on the beach would hardly be “surprising” or “unusual” in an Ice Age kind of setting. Or just a post-climate apocalypse one. A “setting” that Swift herself is arguably more responsible for than Del Rey, with the former being an avid private jet user and the latter being just a garden-variety lover of casual joy riding in her car (#justride). Nonetheless, they relish singing, in “angelic” voices on the newest edition of the song (featuring “More Lana”) from Midnights (The Til Dawn Edition), “Are we falling like snow at the beach/Weird but fuckin’ beautiful?” To be clear, it’s neither that weird nor is it especially “beautiful,” so much as utterly unsettling and chilling (no pun intended).

    Yet the eeriness of such a sight is taken as an opportunity for Swift and Del Rey to try their hand at some overly wistful and romantic Jane Austen shit. Austen, however, gets a pass for being so maudlin about falling in love because she lived in an era where climate change was nary a thought in one’s mind (despite the fact that she witnessed the height of the British Industrial Revolution). She could afford to be “chimerical.” Technically, so can Swift and Del Rey, who comprise the echelons of wealth that will be able to, in some form or other, shield themselves from the climate change fallout (perhaps with an actual fallout shelter).

    With Del Rey being given the opportunity on the new version of “Snow on the Beach” to sing a full verse, she croons, “This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen/I searched ‘aurora borealis green.’” This, too, brings up the fact that even the Northern Lights aren’t immune to the taint of climate change either. Like the stars in the sky dimming as a result of light pollution, aurora borealis will suffer from its own dimming—but, in this case, due to alterations in cloud formations that will inevitably obscure the brilliance of the lights. So yes, Del Rey will actually need to search on a screen for the kind of erstwhile “aurora borealis green” she’s looking for.

    Barring climate change as a reason for snow on the beach, there’s also the consideration of how many beaches already do offer up snowy tableaus regularly. For example, Kings Beach in Tahoe, Chatham Lighthouse Beach in Cape Cod, Unstad Beach on Norway’s Lofoten Islands (where you can see aurora borealis), Sopot Beach in Sopot, Poland and Loch Morlich Beach in the Scottish Highlands. Then you have the beach that made snow on the beach truly famous: the one in Montauk where a large portion of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind takes place. And perhaps Swift got her inspiration from this very movie, what with Joel and Clementine starting to fall back in love on the now snow-dappled beach they initially met on.

    And yet, snow is just as liable to become part of “the new normal” (that hideous phrase people like to use to “normalize” the long-forewarned effects of capitalism) in places perennially associated with “nothing but sunshine.” Case in point, one beach that wasn’t accustomed to getting snow until recent years is Torre Lapillo in Puglia. The unlikely snowfall that occurred there in 2017 dredged up a five-hundred-year-old prophecy from Matteo Tafuri that stated two days of snowfall in Salento would be part of heralding the apocalypse. The snow came again in 2019. So surely, we’re that much closer. If not to the kind of apocalypse that signals a bang so much as a whimper, then at least the kind that standardizes snow on the beach to a point where Tay and LDR’s simile becomes increasingly less meaningful.

    As for Wallace S. Broecker, the preeminent scientist who made the term “global warming” take off in the 70s (before Dick Cheney decided that sounded too “icky” and made “climate change” the phrase instead), he’s likely not hearing the song from beyond the grave with much glee. After all, he had urged the world, before his death in 2019, to take far more drastic measures to avoid the “many more surprises in the greenhouse” to come. Trying to make snow on the beach seem like something “abnormal” while we’re already living in a climate change scenario certainly isn’t going to help with that.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Taylor/Ice Spice Collab: They Both Have Their Motives For Doing It

    The Taylor/Ice Spice Collab: They Both Have Their Motives For Doing It

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    As the Taylor Swift/Ice Spice collaboration continues to gain momentum (thanks in part to other Black women like Keke Palmer sanctioning it), the fact remains that, as many have speculated, Swift’s “calculated” maneuver to use her in the song is rife with impure motives. For yes, far beyond Taylor insisting that Ice Spice is “THE ONE to watch” (because we needed a blanca to tell us that, apparently), she also wants to ensure that her rebound piece, Matty Healy, is protected from the fallout of his comments on a podcast called The Adam Friedland Show back in February. Comments he didn’t really seem all that remorseful for making after “apologizing” to Ice Spice at a show in New Zealand in March by announcing to the crowd, “I don’t want Ice Spice to think I’m a dick. I love you, Ice Spice. I’m so sorry.” So basically, yeah, he said he was sorry for overt damage control purposes. But maybe nothing could top the kind of image damage control that is entailed by “canoodling” with America’s sweetheart. She being the one whose reputation will suffer in the end.

    Or perhaps it’s just the sort of “image change” Swift is desperately seeking for a new era. That word, of course, being associated with Swift’s The Eras Tour now (even though Madonna is the only one who has a right to call a tour that). Therefore, Healy taking up use of the word feels pointed as well, telling an Adelaide audience in April, “The era of me being a fucking arsehole is coming to an end. I’ve had enough.” More accurately, he realizes everyone else has had enough and likely comprehends that being an “areshole” doesn’t compute with Taylor’s “brand.” So this sudden attempt at an “image tone-down” could very well be a bid to work his way toward going full-tilt “official” with Swift…as opposed to just being spotted with her everywhere.

    Accordingly, it also seems no coincidence that a profile, of sorts, in The New Yorker entitled “Who Is Matty Healy?” should come out and deliberately avoid answering that very question, sidestepping as much as possible from his more controversial moments of late in favor of positioning him as some kind of intentional performance artist. Complete with the increasingly chic sentiment Healy was cited as declaring: “We used to expect our artists to be cigarette-smoking bohemian outsiders, and now we expect them to be liberal academics.” No one is really expecting either from Healy, who seems to see himself as something he’s not: some kind of “avant-garde artist,” a 60s (or 70s, of course)-esque enfant terrible. Minus the part where he might be willing to stray from his adamant heterosexuality.

    Azealia Banks, bless her merciless heart, was happy to disabuse Healy of any such self-aggrandizement via an Instagram story posted on May 30th (fittingly, the day after The New Yorker released the “Who Is Matty Healy?” article). So it was that she asked, “Does Matt Healy know that no one thinks The 1975 makes good music and that he’s a lame poser with a trash cliche band name that actually means nothing? He’s clearly so pressed that a black girl who knows nothing about him or his music is making more moves and more money than him.” This could very well be a reference to how Healy tried to DM Ice Spice and she didn’t respond (per Healy’s claim on that now illustrious podcast). Making Swift’s current collab with Ice Spice all the more awkward if Healy was trying to make Ice Spice part of one of his debasing Ghetto Gaggers sexual fantasies. Banks wasn’t about to stop there though, adding, “Does he know that black women are more coveted in the industry because there’s BIG BUSINESS in female rap? You’re not a star, nor are you good at whatever this crappy ass mid-2000s indie pitchfork darling fantasy you’re trying to sell. Ice Spice has MILES more originality than you will ever.” That’s something Swift ostensibly agrees on, even if she would never concede to the condemnation of her current favorite British peen (she told you she liked a “London Boy”—meaning any man from the UK).

    Banks delivered her coup de grâce by then addressing Swift directly and announcing, “He’s not on the level of powerful pussy u worked HELLA hard to build. Ugh this dude is a full incel. You cannot be letting him climb the rich white coochie mountain, sis.” But oh, she definitely is. And many will likely look back on this era as Swift’s version of falling prey to a K-Fed. Though at least Healy is more than just a backup dancer. Except that might actually be preferable, for Banks didn’t lie about how nominal The 1975’s music is (to put it in perspective, there’s a chance Maroon 5’s “stylings” have more personality). Particularly when pitted against the colossal discography of Swift, matched only by her larger-than-life persona. At the same time, Swift really has no persona at all. She’s arguably the blandest person to ever reach such a level of fame. To quote one Twitter user, “Taylor Swift is literally immune from slaying. Living proof that you can be the number one recording artist of all time and never once serve.” And it’s true. Everything she’s parading onstage right now is, indeed, tired drag. The sequined leotards with fishnets and knee-high boots (Madonna/pretty much every pop star ever), the ethereal, flowing dresses fit for a waif (Florence + the Machine), the floor-length ball gown (Cinderella)—none of it is a serve, but most especially because none of it is groundbreaking.

    In that sense, Swift is something of a match for Healy. And when considering her oatmeal personality, is it any wonder that so much of the identity she’s carved out for herself is tied to men/serial dating—à la Julia Roberts as Maggie Carpenter in Runaway Bride. In tending to also gravitate toward men who are sleazy enough to stand out (see also: John Mayer, Jake Gyllenhaal and Calvin Harris, to name a few), Swift literally cultivates the source material required to write some of the best-known pop songs in music history.

    And yet, surprisingly, “Karma,” her fourth single from Midnights, isn’t about an ex-love (or “lover,” if you can stomach saying that word), so much as a sworn enemy (or at least that’s how it comes across). Namely, Scooter Braun. A.k.a. the man responsible for snatching Taylor’s masters away from her for good after buying her original record label, Big Machine. Perhaps Ice Spice, then, actually is the perfect person to collaborate with her on this track, for she may have learned from Swift’s mistakes (or so Swift’s ego would like to believe) by agreeing to sign with Capitol Records under the condition that she would own her masters and publishing rights. Which is more than Swift could say at the beginning of her career. Despite the coup, it’s probable that someone like Sky Ferreira wouldn’t support the decision to sign with said label. But Ice Spice is not yet in her “activist era,” and she just wants to collect more money for that bag of hers (hence, joining Swift onstage to perform “Karma” at her East Rutherford show). After all, this is the person who told Billboard that she would Google “how to be rich” as a child.

    While she might have seen such professions as doctor or lawyer listed, everyone knows fame is a tried-and-true (and far more glamorous) method for becoming obscenely wealthy. And what better way to reach a new tier of fame than appearing on a track with Swift? Indeed, present (folk)lore claims that Ice Spice was originally the one to reach out to Swift about a musical alliance. Swift was conveniently “too busy” until the Healy backlash started to brew. As for Ice Spice, it appears to be of no consequence to her that her feature on the single completely washes her out, or that the music video has nothing whatsoever to do with Ice Spice’s “vibe.” Or even really much to do with karma, for that matter. Unless one counts the allusions to Reputation (ergo, the artist formerly known as Kanye West) and an opening shot of Swift (who also directed) dressed as gold-tone Justice herself. More specifically, Nemesis—the Greek goddess of revenge. A dish, we’re often reminded, best served cold. Especially when one “lets” karma do the work for them—this being what Swift would like to believe is happening from her beneficent perch on high.

    For Ice Spice’s part, she appears inside a clam shell (suggestive) to deliver her scant verse. One that, in fact, could be directly applied to Healy’s derogatory comments about her when she says, “Karma is a fire in your house (grrah)/And she ’boutta pop up unannounced (like)/And she never leavin’ you alone (damn)…/Got you wavin’ pretty white flags, feenin’ for that cash/Thinkin’ it’ll save ya, now you switchin’ up your behavior/It’s okay, baby, you ain’t gotta worry, karma never gets lazy/So, I keep my head up, my bread up, I won’t let up (never).” Nor will Swift…at least not when it comes to ensuring she’s the Queen of Being Well-Liked. Hence, her machination to get Ice Spice on Team Tay, ergo Team Matty. For it was only white devil dick that could prompt Taylor to finally give a feature to a Black woman on one of her songs. Where Ice Spice is concerned, well, she knows how to play the game—aware that being involved in the drama rather than off to the sidelines of it is far better for her. Financially, not karmically. ‘Cause she in ha profit-as-much-as-possible-while-you-can mood.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • No Sleep (Til Every Last Dollar Is Extracted): Taylor Swift Releases Midnights: The Til Dawn Edition—Oh, and Midnights: The Late Night Edition

    No Sleep (Til Every Last Dollar Is Extracted): Taylor Swift Releases Midnights: The Til Dawn Edition—Oh, and Midnights: The Late Night Edition

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    For those who had gotten their rocks off on making various memes about Lana Del Rey’s barely detectable presence on what was supposed to be a “blockbuster” duet from Midnights called “Snow on the Beach,” the Til Dawn Edition of the album is sure to please. And yet, its addendum of three songs (one of which, “Hits Different,” was already released on an erstwhile “exclusive” Target version of the CD) hardly feels worth the fanfare of putting out yet another version of the record. Especially when Taylor Swift could have just released the new “Snow on the Beach” (featuring More Lana Del Rey) as a single. And yet, it seems the true purpose of unleashing another edition is for Swift to showcase her “cred” with a version of “Karma” featuring Ice Spice.

    Being that “rap clout” is among the most viable of ways for white girls to prove their worth outside the pop sphere, Swift has only ever engaged with one other such musician on a remix of her song: Kendrick Lamar on “Bad Blood” (a major coup that still can’t be believed). Del Rey herself is no stranger to engaging in the “trend,” having collaborated with A$AP Rocky and The Weeknd more than once. Hence, her ill-advised, apropos-of-nothing humblebrag, “My best friends are rappers, my boyfriends have been rappers” (who? G-Eazy?) in early 2021 after announcing the release of Chemtrails Over the Country Club (ultimately, Lana’s folklore). Fortunately for Swift, the masses seem far less inclined to decry her for anything other than her romantic choices (and yes, Matty Healy is disgusting on manifold levels). Because oh, how quickly everyone was to forget about her obscene carbon footprint.

    As for her barrage of re-releases in the name of good capitalist business (a.k.a. “ownership”), no one would ever besmirch that. Even if “Dear Reader” was the perfect way to end the truest version of Midnights, the 3am Edition. As for “Snow on the Beach,” Jack Antonoff—the producer neither pop chanteuse can get enough off—provides different production this time around (complete with more “divine”-sounding string arrangements) as Del Rey’s voice is “permitted” to have a higher-volumed presence. And yes, it’s still unclear why she wouldn’t do that in the first place, despite her claim to Billboard, “I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted.”

    But really, how could she not have known? Isn’t that pertinent information that both Swift and Antonoff would have mentioned to her? Furthermore, she could have sang at a normal decibel to begin with and awaited feedback about whether it was “too loud” or not. Nonetheless, Del Rey insisted her “job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song.” Even if Del Rey’s vocals and “persona” would be much more at home on “Vigilante Shit.” Indeed, “Snow on the Beach” is arguably the most flaccid song on Midnights, apart from “Lavender Haze” and “Question…?”

    Regardless, per Taylor heeding her and Lana’s fans command, “You asked for it, we listened: Lana and I went back into the studio specifically to record more Lana on ‘Snow on the Beach.’ Love u Lana.” Thus, Del Rey is given a full verse formerly taken by Taylor—the one that goes, “This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen/I searched ‘aurora borealis green’/I’ve never seen someone lit from within/Blurring out my periphery.” The two then join in together to harmonize on the lines, “My smile is like I won a contest/And to hide that would be so dishonest/And it’s fine to fake it ’til you make it/‘Til you do, ’til it’s true.” Both women having plenty of experience with that in the early days of their career, only to reach their respective zeniths in the present.

    For added flair, Del Rey layers on her own dreamy mmm-mmm-mmmm-mmms to the repetition of “like snow on the beach” (after the “contest” verse). Which, to be frank, isn’t all that anomalous in a climate change scenario. But we can pretend it still has “phenomenon” cachet for the sake of a jarring love metaphor. So, all in all, it features More Lana Del Rey for sure. Next, they’re going to have to obey a fan request for them to scissor on video for the Waking Up At Noon Edition.

    While Del Rey and Swift theoretically “gel” from a collaborative standpoint—yet still don’t deliver something that special with “Snow on the Beach” (the better Lana feature is on “Don’t Call Me Angel” with Ari and Miley)—Ice Spice makes absolutely no sense with Swift. And that comes across on “Karma,” with Ice Spice faintly saying at the beginning, “Karma is that girl, like (grrah).” Her signature “grrah” noticeably muted. Perhaps not to “scare” the fragile Swift audience with her “aggressive” Blackness. In this sense, Ice Spice becomes the new Lana on the original version of “Snow on the Beach” (now transformed into what amounts to a duet), toning herself down to blend into “Taylor’s world.” Her lone verse is hardly anything to instill fear either (let’s just say Nicki Minaj would have gone much harder) as she promises, “Karma is your chеck’s ’boutta bounce (damn)/Karma is the fire in your house (grrah)/And she ’boutta pop up unannounced (like)/And she never leavin’ you alone (damn)/Watch her put ya opps on a throne (damn).”

    Swift might have let her stop there, but instead, Ice Spice continues, “Got you wavin’ pretty white flags, feenin’ for that cash/Thinkin’ it’ll save ya, now you switchin’ up your behavior/It’s okay, baby, you ain’t gotta worry, karma never gets lazy/So, I keep my head up, my bread up, I won’t let up (never)/Promise that you’ll never endeavor with none lesser (ever, ever)/I be draggin’ that wagon, karma is a beauty winning that pageant, grrah.” Pageants and contests being the norm in Swift’s realm of white privilege.

    Another norm is releasing oh so many versions of things. Ergo, as further proof that Swift inexplicably favors East Coastians (especially those near New York), she also milked Midnights of another version called the Late Night Edition that she was only selling in a CD format at her The Eras Tour shows in East Rutherford. This one also including the Lana and Ice Spice collabs on the Til Dawn Edition, but swapping out “Hits Different” for a “From the Vault” song called “You’re Losing Me” (ostensible shade-throwing at Joe Alwyn). And maybe some Swifties would like to believe Taylor fucked over Target on their “Hits Different” CD exclusivity as retaliation for pulling select Pride merch, but, if we’re being real with ourselves, Taylor is her own big business with capitalist machinations à la Target—and therefore knows that the more versions sold, the more money made.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Taylor’s Four-Pack (Of “New” Songs)

    Taylor’s Four-Pack (Of “New” Songs)

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    In 2022, Madonna stated the obvious with regard to the mention of potentially selling her music catalogue: “Ownership is everything.” In other words, there’s no price tag she would accept to give up control of her music. Taylor Swift understands that better than anyone as she continues the daunting task of re-recording all the albums she made while under contract with Big Machine Records. At fifteen years old, the caveat of letting the label own her masters as part of the signing deal probably seemed like a small price to pay for fame. Over a decade later, as one of the most famous pop stars in the world, it suddenly felt like a huge mistake. Especially when music manager Scooter Braun bought Big Machine Records in 2019, thereby claiming ownership over Swift’s prized masters.

    The only “negotiation” Swift was offered in terms of buying them back was to agree to re-sign with Big Machine and “earn” one album back per every album recorded under the new contract. That’s fucked-up, Shylock-type shit, obviously, and Swift vehemently turned down the so-called deal in favor of signing with Republic Records, who offered a contract that allowed her to own all of her master recordings going forward. Without Swift on “his side,” Braun then sold the masters to a private equity firm called Shamrock Holdings (which, yes, sounds totally made up, complete with the word “sham” in it). And now, here we are two re-recordings (Fearless and Red) of six later, with Swift still managing to get her digs in at the (Big) Machine by releasing re-recorded versions of even her standalone singles from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond. Luckily, this wasn’t the only “celebratory” marker of launching her Eras Tour on March 17th (because one supposes she loves an Irish boy too). She also offered a re-recording of “If This Was A Movie,” a bonus track on the deluxe edition of Speak Now (the likely next re-recording, as all but confirmed by the requisite Easter eggs Swift likes to dole out to salivating fans). But, better still, is a truly unreleased song from Lover called “All of the Girls You Loved Before.”

    Released too late to use in the soundtrack for To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, “All of the Girls You Loved Before” could easily have been written from the perspective of Lara Jean (Lana Condor) after finally getting the boy she was obsessing over for so long to see that it was her he should be with (this smacking of another Taylor single, “You Belong With Me”). Rather than playing into the 00s school of thought on how “other women” should be treated (read: with disdain—e.g., Pink’s “Stupid Girls” or Marina and the Diamonds’ “Girls”) by their “competitor,” Swift wields the “correct” approach (a.k.a. the publicly sanctioned one we’re all supposed to adhere to now—Hailey Bieber take heed) with regard to seeing these previous women as “gifts.” Silver linings and all that rot. Because, while he was out being a himbo, it gave him the chance to understand what he did and did not want in a woman. Or, as Taylor puts it, “All of the girls you loved before/Made you the one I’ve fallen for/Every dead-end street [a euphemism for “dead-end vagina”] led you straight to me.” It has a certain “invisible string” slant to it, to be sure. Swift also speaks of her own patchy past with men as she adds, “When I think of all the makeup/Fake love out on the town/Cryin’ in the bathroom [a line Olivia Rodrigo also riffs on in “good 4 u”] for some dude/Whose name I cannot remember now.” In effect, everyone else was just a pile of trash that allowed Swift and Joe Alwyn to climb to the top of the heap together.

    Another notable quality about “All of the Girls You Loved Before” is that it’s directly in contrast to the message of “Hits Different” (not to be confused with SZA’s “Hit Different”), a bonus track from the Target edition of Midnights. For, apparently, three years after Lover, Swift was in a less welcoming headspace toward her “love object’s” additional dalliances by noting, “I pictured you with other girls in love/Then threw up on the street.” But hey, people are so many colliding emotions at once that Swift can hardly be blamed for inconsistency in sentiments on the matter of dealing with “other hoes.”

    As for her Hunger Games re-recordings, “Eyes Open” wasn’t the best track to resuscitate if Swift was hoping for a reminder of her musical prowess. Mainly because the track has a decidedly Avril Lavigne tinge, correlatingly saturated in the 00s sound of Rock (said in the “italicized, capital R” sort of way back then despite it being the lamest sound ever), even though it was originally released in 2012. Another re-recording from the same soundtrack, “Safe & Sound,” stands the test of time slightly better. Perhaps because it was given the prompt to embody “what Appalachian music would sound like in three hundred years.” Swift, a sucker for being part of any movie soundtrack related to Appalachia (hear also: “Carolina” from Where the Crawdads Sing), thusly responded with sparse instrumentation as she harmonizes with Joy Williams and John Paul White (a.k.a. The Civil Wars), “Just close your eyes/You’ll be all right/Come morning light/You and I will be safe and sound.” A likely story.

    The fourth song of the “Eras Tour celebration pack,” “If This Was A Movie (Taylor’s Version),” is awash in the country twang Swift was still fond of employing back in 2010. Considered a “fast-paced ballad,” Swift urges, “Come back, come back, come back to me/Like you would, you would if this was a movie/Stand in the rain outside ’til I came out.” That last line, of course romanticizing the stalker-y behavior of Lloyd Dobler (John Cusack) in Say Anything (minus the rain…though there is a separate scene of him being drenched as he pines over Diane Court [Ione Skye] while talking on a pay phone). She pleads again (desperate much?), “Come back, come back, come back to me/Like you could, you could if you just said you’re sorry/I know that we could work it out.” To the point of Swift insisting it would all be okay if the boy in question just apologized, she was sure to state during opening night at Glendale, Arizona’s State Farm Stadium, “Sort of a running, recurring theme in my music is I love to explain to men how to apologize. I just love it, it’s kind of my thing. I love to tell them step-by-step: here’s how simple this is to fix things if you just follow these simple steps I’m laying out for you in a three-minute song. I just love the idea of men apologizing.” A fantasy that certainly gets plenty of play in “If This Was A Movie” (incidentally, Steven Spielberg’s new theme song).

    Although the track appeared as a bonus on Speak Now, it is being promoted as part of The More Fearless (Taylor’s Version) Chapter. Fans have speculated that because “If This Was A Movie” stands alone as the only track on Speak Now not to have been written entirely by Swift, she wants to section it apart from the re-recording of an album that will resultantly be solely written by her. But that seems like a very megalomaniacal reason. Then again, you don’t become the first female to sell out a show at every stadium from State Farm to SoFi without perhaps having a touch of the megalomaniac’s control freak nature.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” Video Induces Little More Than Malaise

    Taylor Swift’s “Lavender Haze” Video Induces Little More Than Malaise

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    If the domicile in “Lavender Haze” appears slightly familiar, perhaps it’s because of how similar it looks and feels to the one in “Anti-Hero.” And if the overall “mood palette” looks the same too, it’s because, as Swift stated, “This was the first video I wrote out of the three that have been released, and this one really helped me conceptualize the world and mood of Midnights, like a sultry sleepless 70s fever dream. Hope you like it.” And sure, of course everyone is expected to “like” it—if for no other reason than the fact that Swift opted to cast trans model Laith Ashley De La Cruz as her love interest (who also happens to be a weather forecaster—a nod to the “Karma” lyrics, “The guy on the screen/Coming straight home to me”).

    Swift, who has become “pointedly” woke in the years since she abandoned country music (and there really are some shitty songs from the canon of her early work), has been steadfastly building toward this. After all, she was sure to be more “inclusive” with the Black Mirror-esque “Lover” video (during which she also sings about a haze via the lines, “There’s a dazzling haze/A mysterious way about you, dear”) that featured Christian Owens as the lover in question. And then there was the “allyship” of “You Need to Calm Down” (also from the Lover album), which Swift timed for a release during Pride Month. So sure, “tapping into” the trans community was only a matter of time. Forgive one for the “jaded tinge” that has to it, but, it’s somewhat obvious that Swift treats the “minorities” she casts somewhat differently than the more “all-American” men she’s had in her videos. That is to say, she’ll actually kiss those men. For example, in her first video, “Tim McGraw,” Swift wasn’t shy about offering up some kiss action to her co-star, Clayton Collins. Released in 2006, it was clear Swift had a long way to go before becoming “woke”—accordingly, the country twang in her voice at that time has disappeared entirely in favor of “pop voice.”

    Elsewhere, she might never have kissed “Drew” in the “Teardrops On My Guitar” video, but probably because he was into some other girl, and that other girl seemed to be more of a beard than anything (this based solely on the casting choice for “Drew”). So maybe he was really just sparing his dear friend Swift the pain of kissing him only to later learn he could never love a woman. In the hoedown sound of the “Our Song” video, there was no room for a man at all. But these are extenuating circumstances that don’t apply to videos like “Lover” and “Lavender Haze,” wherein she prefers touchy “canoodling” to more overt displays of affection, which leads one to call bullshit on her “true acceptance” of the marginalized. It’s a classic case of that “Anti-Hero” lyric, “Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism?” But anyway, apart from the predictability of her casting choices at this point in her political/musical career, “Lavender Haze” is not among her most exciting concepts for a music video.

    Once more directed by Swift herself, the video starts off with a number of her beloved “Easter eggs,” including a close-up on a “Mastermind” record with the signs of Sagittarius (Swift’s) and Pisces (Joe Alwyn’s) etched in the constellation artwork. Then there’s the burning incense on the nightstand, which alludes to the “Maroon” lyrics, “When the morning came/We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf.” Swift, now sitting up in bed, is in the throes of insomnia, compounded by a literal cloud over her head as the lyrics, “You don’t really read into my melancholia” are said. Unlike Swifties, who read into every mood Swift is willing to showcase. Next to her in bed is De La Cruz, who appears unbothered by Swift’s nocturnal activity as he sleeps through the night in peace. Even when she touches his back and reveals the universe contained within it—yes, we all want to know what drugs she’s on.

    In the next instant, she’s lighting a match and we briefly wonder if her country-era persona has taken over and decided to commit a hate crime against a trans person. But no, for whatever reason, the match doesn’t light a fire, but a “lavender haze” (a.k.a. what looks like Gulal powder in purple). As Taylor dances around in the haze, De La Cruz continues to sleep like a log, even when the powdery substance enters his nostrils… but hey, it’s not coke, so why should it wake him?

    In the next scene, Swift is inexplicably alone on the couch in a lavender coat—a scene recognizable from many of her promotional photos for Midnights. Because why not kill two birds with one stone by extrapolating some stills from the music video for the album promo? In any case, Swift proves she must have been smoking the good shit on this night as she blows a clock-shaped smoke ring in our face à la The Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. After which she crawls on the floor through a suddenly materialized “field” of flowers (lavender ones, of course). Making her way toward the TV where De La Cruz is giving the “Forecast at Midnight” on the screen. Arriving at the TV, Swift is able to split it open to reveal another universe filled with koi fish inside. Again, she must have been smoking the good shit (as only a celebrity can afford).

    Another cut to Swift in a lavender-hued pool that looks like the kind one might be able to access at a very expensive spa allows the chanteuse to play up her chastely sexual side. At which time she sings, “I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say.” But of course she does—that’s what the majority of her songs and video concepts have been driven by. Unfortunately, this particular video concept wasn’t driven by the inspiration for the track’s title: Mad Men. Per Swift, “I happened upon the phrase ‘lavender haze’ when I was watching Mad Men. I looked it up because I thought it sounded cool. And it turns out that it’s a common phrase used in the 50s where they would describe being in love. If you’re in the ‘lavender haze,’ then that meant you were in that all-encompassing love glow. And I thought that was really beautiful.” Beautiful enough to ascribe it to what she was going through with Joe Alwyn at the beginning of their relationship, protecting it at all costs from the media (which she still does). As Swift remarked, “I guess, theoretically, when you’re in the ‘lavender haze,’ you’ll do anything to stay there. And not let people bring you down off of that cloud [hence, the presence of some very pronounced clouds in this video]. I think that a lot of people have to deal with this now, not just like ‘public figures,’ because we live in the era of social media, and if the world finds out if you’re in love with somebody they’re going to weigh in on it.”

    But Swift ought to be more concerned with an objective person (as opposed to a die-hard Swiftie) weighing in on this video. During which she ironically insists, “No deal/The 1950s shit they want from me,” yet so adores the term “lavender haze,” which originated in the 50s. With this in mind, a more engaging concept would have been to set the video in the 50s at some point, perhaps with a Pleasantville angle that then finds Swift entering the modern world once the haze has ended. Because, although she doesn’t admit it (or want to), that “honeymoon” period is usually over after about a year.

    In another non sequitur moment, the scene that follows Swift splitting the screen and being in a lavender pool is a party at the duo’s house that seems intent to look as 70s-era as possible despite this song’s genesis being a direct result of the 50s. The party naturally devolves into a wannabe Holi celebration with more lavender-hued Gulal powder as Swift and her party attendees dance about in a reverie.

    The final moments show Swift opening the window in her living room (the party guests and De La Cruz have mysteriously vanished, perhaps all figments of her “fever dream” imagination to begin with) and then pushing the wall down. This causes the domino effect of all four walls falling, pushed back to reveal Swift’s abode has been floating in that lavender, koi fish-filled universe behind the TV screen that she was mesmerized by earlier. Now nestled in a giant cloud that appeared at the center of the erstwhile living room, Swift disappears into it and leaves the world behind. Notably, the fact that her love interest is not in the haze with her speaks to 1) how Swift would never really be with a trans person and 2) how her relationships have enabled her storytelling indulgence to make most of the narrative about her experience.

    Swift has also said of her tenure with Alwyn re: the “lavender haze,” [In] my relationship [of] six years we’ve had to dodge weird rumors, tabloid stuff, and we just ignore it. So this song is about the act of ignoring that stuff to protect the real stuff.” And yet, the accompanying video is about the fantastical rather than the real, which leads one to believe that Swift does a lot of manufacturing for the sake of songwriting embellishment. If only she could have “embellished” a more engaging and original video for the song… Anyway, now that this is off one’s chest, Taylor can get it off her desk.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Eras Tour and the Obvious Connection Between Presales and Selling Would-Be Elitism

    The Eras Tour and the Obvious Connection Between Presales and Selling Would-Be Elitism

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    As Taylor Swift reckons yet again with having the kind of clout that could invoke the swarming of various attorneys general onto Live Nation and Ticketmaster, another deeper issue has come to the surface in the wake of The Eras Tour presale. That issue being, well, presales are founded on the very principle that has wrought so much havoc in this society: elitism. The idea that if you assert yourself as being some kind of “VIP” by spending the money to be as such (whether it’s through paying to exist within a fan club or having an American Express), you can get whatever you want. Money buys everything. That’s the “benefit” of capitalism. Especially for pop stars who know the power of their worth to fans in a parasocial relationship with them. No one knows that worth better than Swift.

    Maybe that’s why she included in her statement on the matter in the aftermath, “It’s really difficult for me to trust an outside entity with these relationships and loyalties, and excruciating for me to just watch mistakes happen with no recourse.” Nonetheless, Swift and other performers are left with little choice but to rely on Ticketmaster for their concert ticket sales. After all, the “entity” and its parent company, Live Nation, control roughly seventy percent of the live ticketing marketplace. Something that might have been prevented twelve years ago upon the sealing of the merger, but that no one appeared too bothered by at the time. Nor has the notion of “presales” seemed to vex any ticket buyers over the years. Instead, music enthusiasts ostensibly relish the opportunity to jump ahead in the proverbial queue. It gives them a delight to know that they’re “beating” other fans to some worshipping-in-person punch.

    As Ticketmaster “politely” describes the concept of a presale, they’re “usually sold from a separate allocation of seats, which may not be the same as the tickets being released to the general public.” This implies, of course, that a bulk of objectively “better” tickets are made available to those “elite” ones. Or, at least, the ones who believe in the American concept that class can be bought (something the British are only slowly coming around to). In the case of Swift’s presale, it’s not about having an AmEx card, but a Capital One card. For Swift, like any adept capitalist, is obliged to cross-promote her endorsement deal with said credit card company. And it was this demographic of Capital One cardholders for whom the second wave of presale tickets catered to as Ticketmaster tried again to lead more casual fans down a primrose path to “hell.” Hell to “First World” ilk inferring that they have to stare at a screen and watch the clock count down the minutes as they “wait in line” for their turn to buy.

    Considering the second presale was meant to commence on Tuesday, November 15th, but was pushed back to Wednesday, it’s clear Ticketmaster persisted in its ill-preparedness and incompetence… once again. So much, in fact, that the ticket sale intended for the general public had to be cancelled. Who needs “average” buyers anyway, when one can sell millions of tickets to “special” people without them? And yet, perhaps there wouldn’t be false ideas of “specialness” if presales were abolished altogether. If everyone was “allowed” the same opportunity to purchase concert tickets at the same time, surely the initial bum-rush wouldn’t be so intense as a result of everyone viewing these lots of tickets as inherently better by sheer virtue of being able to choose from them “first.”

    To this end, juggernauts like Ticketmaster are possibly only feeding into what the people “want.” Or rather, what they want to believe about themselves. That they are somehow more superior to others—a more “diehard” fan, etc.—and should be given the divine right to access the best seats before the hoi polloi. By this logic, one could ask if Ticketmaster can fully be blamed for driving the bloodlust for presales. The answer is, if you don’t build it, they will not come. In short, permitting 3.5 million customers to register for the presale hardly makes anyone feel “special” regarding their preliminary access to tickets. And, the way the presale went, it only served to remind that it is forever people with “real” influence who can actually get what they want easily.

    What’s more, Swift is no stranger to invoking political imbroglios, which began when she finally decided to grow a political voice and speak out against the election of Marsha Blackburn in October of 2018, when the U.S. was faced with yet another extremely close midterm election. Evidencing her power to make website usage surge, in the two days after Swift posted about the importance of registering to vote, vote.org saw a spike of 102,000 new voters registering (seventy percent of whom were under the age of twenty-five). And yes, they knew it was attributable to Swift telling her hundreds of millions of followers, “So many intelligent, thoughtful, self-possessed people have turned eighteen in the past two years and now have the right and privilege to make their vote count. But first you need to register, which is quick and easy to do. October 9th is the LAST DAY to register to vote in the state of TN. Go to vote.org and you can find all the info. Happy Voting!” Cue the onslaught of registering voters. But hundreds of thousands are nothing compared to millions, which, evidently, even the strongest of interfaces can’t withstand.

    With Swift’s popularity manifested anew amid The Eras Tour presale, a fresh spotlight was placed on something political. She being the catalyst for politicians to weigh in on a pop cultural matter (even though government and pop culture have been enmeshed for quite some time—*cough cough* Marilyn and JFK). Specifically, the inability of customers to go elsewhere for their tickets making it all the more apparent in this particular scenario that Ticketmaster’s 2010 merger with Live Nation constitutes a monopoly in violation of antitrust laws. The insanity of trying to secure a presale seat prompted Minnesota Senator Amy Klobuchar to remark, “When there is no competition to incentivize better services and fair prices, we all suffer the consequences.” And yes, what a “tragic” consequence—not being able to attend a little stadium concert.

    Even the presidential level of government weighed in via a quote that Joe Biden said earlier this year. One dredged up by White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre, who reminded, “Capitalism without competition isn’t capitalism; it’s exploitation.” Does anyone have the heart to tell Biden that capitalism is full-stop exploitation no matter what? Oh well. There’s no stopping this system until it implodes anyway—and Swift’s presale tickets were yet another harbinger of that inevitable implosion. The patent unsustainability of “everyone” (read: a lotta white folks who listen to Swift) wanting to be “elite.”

    This largely due to the American dream still being peddled—the one that insists each person can have a piece of the “pie.” Just not the Taylor pie. Or any other, for that matter. Because the greatest lie ever sold is that “everyone” can be “elite” when the entire reason the “genuine” elite (a.k.a. those with generational wealth) relish being such is because no one else will actually be “let in.” Ergo making the Ticketmaster fiasco a prime example of middle-class aims turning out to be too relatively lofty.

    Swift might do her best to shirk any blame (what with having a song called “Don’t Blame Me” and only admitting to being “the problem” in “Anti-Hero”), but surely she must have some say in kiboshing such Ticketmaster disclaimers as, “Ticket prices may fluctuate, based on demand, at any time.” For this is the woman who can bring down (or at least bring into question) entire institutions with a single post. Even so, Swift herself isn’t immune to the temptations of “more money,” with Forbes commenting of the ticket sale setup, “Swift could have put Swifties’ names on the concert tickets, set a fair price and turned off the resale market… she did not do this because it would not ‘have been as profitable.’”

    Thus, perhaps as her on-again off-again foil, Billie Eilish, is known for touting, maybe Swift truly believes that, regarding some “catering-to-the-little-people-pretending-to-be-VIP” matters, it’s “not my responsibility.” For music, whether “art” or not, remains a cold, hard commodity in the undiscerning eyes of the “free” market.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Billie Eilish Said “I’m the Problem” Before Taylor Swift and, Historically, That Tends to Track

    Billie Eilish Said “I’m the Problem” Before Taylor Swift and, Historically, That Tends to Track

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    Perhaps because it’s so unusual to encounter a Gen Zer doing anything either original or “first” (not that anything really can be at this point), listeners have been quick to forget that, earlier this year, Billie Eilish already immortalized the lyrics, “I’m the problem” on her single, “TV,” released in July via her two-track EP, Guitar Songs. While Taylor Swift may have already written “Anti-Hero” at that juncture, the rule goes that whoever releases something before another musician tends to be the “owner” of that lyrical phrase. And yet, Eilish, despite her equitable popularity to Swift in such a short span of time (although the two seem vastly different from a stylistic perspective, the singer-songwriter shtick is prominent in both), has largely been forgotten for helming, “I’m the problem.” That is, ever since “Anti-Hero” inaugurated the barrage of singles that will inevitably be released from Midnights.

    Maybe the effortless forgetting of Eilish as the OG “responsibility-taker” for being something of a “problematic” person (in addition to a jobist) stems from how she couldn’t be bothered to note, “Maybe I, maybe I, maybe I’m the problem” in a catchy pop song format the way Taylor has with the chirpier phrase, “It’s me, hi/I’m the problem/It’s me.” Perhaps just going to show that the millennial knows best when it comes to toeing the line between pandering to the generations they’re sandwiched in between. Whereas Gen Z seemingly just wants to burn the whole world to the ground (but is ultimately too apathetic to do so). All while claiming to be “much different” from the millennials they balk at while simultaneously grafting pretty much every pop cultural element from them (except in this anomalous case of Taylor grafting from Billie, unless, of course, the former has documentation [obviously, she does] of the exact date she initially started writing “Anti-Hero”). And yet, not so “different” as to avoid “covert narcissism disguised as altruism,” as Taylor words it. In Eilish’s case, that comes in the form of asking hopefully, “Did you see me on TV?”

    The lack of divergence from previous generations of women on Eilish’s part has also been frequently revealed by the “pull” of older men—all while putting out the contradictory message of being “weird” a.k.a. anti-heteronormative. Yet Eilish is perhaps even more heteronormative (which, ironically, “wish you were gay” also corroborates) than Swift if her history of fetishizing “mature” dick is any hint.  

    And yes, she continues to be “the problem” after dressing up as a baby for Halloween while her older boyfriend, Jesse Rutherford (best known as the lead singer of The Neighbourhood), opted to show up as an old man. Although the two might have thought it was a “cute” way to “poke fun” at their almost eleven-year age gap, it only highlighted how little Eilish actually cares to cater to her own easily outraged generation (in addition to highlighting the retroactive ick factor of one of The Neighbourhood’s biggest songs being called “Daddy Issues”). Something she also made apparent when she appeared on the cover of British Vogue in what amounted to Marilyn drag (and actually, Billie Eilish might have been a better choice for Marilyn in Blonde than Ana de Armas—granted, nothing and no one could have saved that monstrosity). This after building her “brand” on championing the “offbeat”—as Wednesday Addams might in the twenty-first century.

    As for Taylor, the extent of her own “experimentation” comes in the form of sampling the “dream pop”/electropop stylings of the 2012 era that the likes of Chvrches, M83 and Phantogram already perfected. But, as Taylor has shown us in ousting Billie with the “I’m the problem” adage, she’s capable of “erasing” anyone she wants to whenever she comes along to perform something with her own musical interpretation of what’s already been done before. Plus, Eilish is more reluctant to admit her wrongdoings/overall frailty on “TV,” only gradually coming to the conclusion at the very end of the song that, “Baby, I, baby, I, baby, I’m the problem.” Taylor, in contrast, is far quicker to take the blame for, well, everything. Especially when it comes to being “too big to hang out” with (just as Lorde noted of herself on “Liability”). And while “TV” is a song that focuses more on the general “sickness of the culture,” “Anti-Hero” is about being overcome by one’s own insecurities and giving in completely to that low self-esteem.

    Eilish, instead, appears to have low esteem for everyone else when she offers lyrics like, “The internet’s gone wild watching movie stars on trial/While they’re overturning Roe v. Wade.” However, one notable similarity regarding insecurity that is present on both tracks pertains to weight—apparently a subject that transcends all generational divides in spite of Gen Z’s frequent touting of “body positivity.” While Eilish sings, “I’ll try not to starve myself/Just because you’re mad at me,” Taylor (formerly) showed that insecurity with a scale in the “Anti-Hero” video that reads, “FAT” when she steps onto it. Except, of course, she wasn’t allowed to have her own feelings displayed for long because of the scandalized Gen Z types that would accuse her of being fat-shaming to others.

    As for Eilish and her own problematic nature, she’ll take a less direct approach in confronting it, as manifest in the “TV” lyrics, “I’ll be in denial for at least a little while.” The same way Swifties will be about Eilish sonically coining “I’m the problem” before Taylor.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Don’t Hate Taylor Because She’s Thin And Still Feels Fat: “Anti-Hero” and Its Cacomorphobia Interpretation

    Don’t Hate Taylor Because She’s Thin And Still Feels Fat: “Anti-Hero” and Its Cacomorphobia Interpretation

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    For some reason, it was only about two or so seconds of the “Anti-Hero” video that stood out to many viewers. Particularly, let’s say, more zaftig viewers who took one look at the scale that read, “FAT” and said to themselves, “How could she?” Not only because Taylor Swift embodies one of those rather vexing skinny bitches who feigns having to worry about their weight like any other garden-variety fatso (read: most of America), but because, in the present climate, it seemed incredible that she thought she’d be able to get away with it unscathed, innocuous as it may have seemed to her. This perhaps being a product of both her foolishness in thinking that uncensored self-expression is part and parcel of what art is and being surrounded by too many cloying sycophants to be properly forewarned. One would sub out “cloying sychophants” with “skinny people” were it not for the fact that Lena Dunham is one of Swift’s “besties,” and she didn’t seem to take offense.

    In the past, Swift has been known for “carousing” with fellow tall, thin people (often referred to as models), most of which were represented in the “Bad Blood” video, including Cara Delevingne, Gigi Hadid and Karlie Kloss. The backlash that her “girl squad” received, however, was also rooted in a public disdain for Swift parading a homogenous standard of beauty. Swift eventually responded to the reaction by remarking, “I never would have imagined that people would have thought, ‘This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.’ Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks.” And yet, for someone whose songwriting is so frequently about being an “outsider,” one would think she could tend to imagine it. But that’s the thing: she’s the type of “outsider” frequently presented in rom-coms of a bygone era. You know, the sort of girl who is only “ugly” because she has glasses and her hair hasn’t yet gotten a blowout. Naturally, Swift wouldn’t and couldn’t see it that way, just recently singing things like, “No one wanted to play with me as a little kid/So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since/To make them love me and make it seem effortless” on Midnights.

    And one aspect of the “effortlessness” of “making someone” “love” you, in this world of peddling brainwashing ads about how to be “beautiful,” is “keeping fit.” Something Taylor has been made hyper-aware of in her role as a monolithic celebrity, dissected and picked apart as much for her looks as she is for her personal life. Understandably, this would warp her perspective even more than the average self-hating girl. And for those who wish to seek a better, more tasteful insight into that than “Anti-Hero,” it can’t be emphasized enough to listen to and watch the video for Tove Lo’s “Grapefruit.” A track that speaks to the raging sense of body dysmorphia that exists inside so many women. Though, to be more “feminist,” Xtina’s “Beautiful” video also calls it out in men as well. So yes, there is an honesty to what Taylor is portraying on that scale. How, no matter what size we are, we’ve been conditioned to see it as being still too “FAT.” Regardless of simply being a healthy weight.

    Alas, even Taylor Swift can no longer have her nice things, namely freedom to express her subjective thoughts and feelings without it being shat upon by people who are ultimately jealous of her figure and enraged by the fact that she doesn’t appreciate it. It’s ironic, of course, that in declaring in the very same video, “It’s me, hi/I’m the problem, it’s me,” Taylor should make good on that assertion by being the “problem” for many an “overweight” person whose own insecurities she tapped into with use of the word “fat,” in addition to conveying it as a source of ultimate fear. This playing into the inherently fatphobic (cacomorphobia, if you prefer) nature of society. One whose “values” Taylor is both a product and purveyor of. So why should she be muzzled when it comes to mentioning how she feels about that? Least of all held responsible for single-handedly eradicating the concept of body-shaming. Something that will never go away. And certainly not with the dominance social media, the premier conduit for comparison and self-loathing, here to stay for the foreseeable future.

    Nonetheless, Swift was shamed for her purported body-shaming. To the extent that she actually altered the video almost right away (proving once again that most “artists” of the present are fucking pussies that won’t stand by what they’ve said or done when it’s poked at too much). To this end, in the current era of automatically “erasing” or “deleting” something that causes a backlash, it leaves one to wonder if art—in its undiluted form—can even exist anymore. Not to mention how it highlights that we live in a dystopian-level society that can and will censor at the drop of a hat.

    To boot, “making people forget,” as though they’ve been exposed to the neuralyzer from Men in Black, doesn’t truly make the “problem” go away, it just buries it to the point where everyone becomes more passive aggressive in their expression of authentic internal feelings. And, by the way, it bears noting that Men in Black was released at a time when, evidently, the neuralyzer wasn’t as needed. For people are far more sensitive now than they were in 1997. Their delicate sensibilities constantly shot and rattled to the extent that, if they really were using the neuralyzer to have their memories of unwanted portrayals erased, they’d be operating with a practically lobotomized brain at this juncture. With Taylor now being yet another person to wield the ice pick by promptly removing the offending image. In turn, she’s effectively used it on herself as well, manifesting her ism, “I’m the problem, it’s me” by backing down on her own genuine emotions. And no, this not the same as Ye refusing to back down on his genuine “emotions” about Jewish people.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • And By the Way, Taylorella Is Going Out Tonight: “Bejeweled” Riffs On Cinderella With Cameos Galore

    And By the Way, Taylorella Is Going Out Tonight: “Bejeweled” Riffs On Cinderella With Cameos Galore

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    As Taylor Swift continues her Midnights blitzkrieg, a steady release of music videos for the album is par for the promotional course. And after only freshly releasing the Honey, I Blew Up the Kid meets Alice in Wonderland “Anti-Hero,” Swift has wasted no time (“midnights” speaking to the tick of the clock and all) in gracing her audience with yet another visual accompaniment—this time for “Bejeweled.” Which she also wrote and directed… yet again.

    Riffing on Cinderella because it’s a tale that automatically gets associated with midnight, Taylor fancies herself the cleaning “house wench” of the narrative, scrubbing the floor as her three stepsisters a.k.a. the Haim sisters, Lady Danielle (wants the ring), Lady Este (wants the title) and Lady Alana (wants the d***), traipse in discussing the impending ball. But Lady Danielle laments that, instead of just showing up and being able to look hot, a talent competition has been incorporated into this year’s festivities.

    Taylor, literally down at heel scrubbing puke off the floor, then overhears that the winner gets the keys to her own castle. “Taylorella” perks right up as her descriptive caption reads, “House Wench Taylor (wants the castle).” And we all know Swift loves a good castle reference. For example, on “New Romantics,” she sang, “I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me.” Later, on “Call It What You Want,” she lamented, “My castle crumbled overnight” and “They took the crown, but it’s alright.” Then there was the “kingdom” allusion on the Kanye-shading “Look What You Made Me Do,” wherein she says, “I don’t like your kingdom keys, they once belonged to me.”

    It’s clear in “Bejeweled” that she’s determined to take them back, along with her independence, even if being tied to Joe Alwyn with an invisible string somewhat detracts from that. And yes, many believe one of the engagement-oriented Easter eggs (that odious term) Swift has planted in the video comes from the mouth of Laura Dern, who plays her stepmother, saying, “I simply adore a proposal. It’s the single-most defining thing a lady could hope to achieve in her lifetime.”

    After her stepmother and stepsisters continue to prattle on about how she can’t go to the ball, dropping in other Swiftian keywords like “exile” and “snake,” Taylorella waits for them to leave before breaking the fourth wall and smiling at the audience. A knowing smirk that infers the “Bejeweled” lyric, “And by the way, I’m goin’ out tonight.” That she is, as Taylorella enters a magically-appearing elevator (of the ilk that reminds the viewer of the one featured in Dua Lipa’s “Levitating” video with DaBaby… before he was briefly cancelled for making homophobic comments) after a stopwatch descends into her hand ticking off seconds beneath the words “exile ends.”

    All at once in a bejeweled cape, Taylorella happily enters the elevator and hits the number three button, just one of many hints that have prompted fans to determine she next plans to re-record her third album, Speak Now (not to be confused with Lindsay Lohan’s far more culturally impactful Speak). Taken to a room that looks like something out of a Yayoi Kusama exhibit, it’s filled with nothing but jewels (both on the floor as a pathway and suspended in mid-air) as Taylorella walks across them like Jesus walking on water (and yes, many do view Swift with his level of worship).

    Back on the art deco elevator, Taylorella then heads to the fifth floor, where, of all people, Dita Von Teese awaits. Citing her as one of the most iconic performers in an interview with Jimmy Fallon, Swift accordingly lists her as the “Fairy Goddess” in the credits, taking lessons on how to execute her signature “The Martini Glass” performance in a scene that is peak “women supporting women.” Once she apprehends the arcane knowledge of burlesque, Taylorella takes the elevator to the thirteenth floor (yet another number rife with meaning for the chanteuse). This is where the ball awaits, and where she will showcase her newfound talent for the Queen and the Prince.

    Against a backdrop of cogs and wheels, Taylorella herself sits on a clock in bejeweled burlesque attire, taking the spotlight at the fête—much to the dismay of her stepsisters. Watching from the sidelines is Pat McGrath as “Queen Pat,” with the caption, “Queen Pat was impressed. Prince Jack [of course, played by none other than Swift’s bitch, Jack Antonoff] was forced to propose to House Wench Taylor.”

    Posing next to Prince Jack with her giant key to her very own castle, Taylorella then goes poof as the additional caption needlessly explains, “She ghosted. But kept the castle.” This written as Taylorella, looking more Bridgerton than Cinderella, walks out on the balcony of her new “pad” to witness the sight of dragons breathing fire at the towers. The implication being that the outside world is still trying to tear down her perfect kingdom—or is it that they’re now “on her side” and protecting it? Only time will tell, but knowing the “pratfalls” of being a celebrity, it’s likely the former.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Honey, I Blew Up the Taylor in Wonderland: “Anti-Hero” Video Shows Swift Being Too Big For This World

    Honey, I Blew Up the Taylor in Wonderland: “Anti-Hero” Video Shows Swift Being Too Big For This World

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    After directing the aggressively white and heteronormative “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version),” Taylor Swift made it clear that she had plenty of other future directorial (and screenwriting) intentions in mind. Whether that will ultimately lead to a feature-length movie remains to be seen, but, for the time being, continuing to direct her own music videos is a good way to “flex the muscle” in the directing field. And perhaps she was watching a lot of Michel Gondry films—followed by Honey, I Blew Up the Kid and Alice in Wonderland—when she came up with the visual concepts behind her first single from Midnights, “Anti-hero.” For there is a calculatedly surreal quality to the narrative.

    One that opens on Swift’s back to the camera as the caption beneath “Anti-Hero” is sure to announce, “Written & Directed by Taylor Swift.” As she sits at the kitchen table (presumably around the midnight hour—since “midnights become [her] afternoons”), she proceeds to cut open one of the sunny-side up eggs on her plate that suddenly leaks glitter. And, to be honest, such a visual is patently ripped off from the Kesha playbook. Only slightly unnerved by the vision, it is the appearance of several “ghosts” in sheets (think: A Ghost Story) that causes her to truly freak out as she tries to call for help from her landline (this just being part of the many 70s aesthetics from the Midnights era), only to find the cord is cut. Much like the thin thread of her sanity as she runs into another corner of her house to hide from the “specters” that won’t leave her alone.

    Indeed, ghost imagery is mentioned a few times on Midnights, with one notable instance being on “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” when she sings, “And now that I’m grown, I’m scared of ghosts.” Even sheet-covered ones that wouldn’t make Lydia Deetz so much as flinch. Another standout lyric that opens the track is, “I have this thing where I get older/But just never wiser.” Which could be part of the reason why she refuses to branch out from collaborating with Jack Antonoff.

    When she finally goes to open the front door as a means to run out and escape, she sees the “vampier” version of herself standing before her with the greeting, “It’s me.” The Insomniac Taylor sings the “hi” part before “Devious” Taylor continues, “I’m the problem, it’s me.” Letting this version of her “worst” self in, Insomniac Taylor starts to let Devious Taylor influence all her thoughts and feelings as they do shots together and Insomniac Taylor takes down notes from the lesson plan Devious Taylor wants to impart: “Everyone Will Betray You.” This being, of course, a philosophy that feeds Insomniac Taylor’s trust issues.

    The next scene is where things really meld the plot points of Honey, I Blew Up the Kid and Alice in Wonderland as a giant Swift peers in on a dinner party of “friends” looking like she just consumed one of the same “Eat Me” cakes as Alice. Despite the incongruity of her oversized appearance, she tries to “act naturally” while the lyrics, “Too big to hang out [here, one is reminded of Lorde’s own fame-lamenting lyrics on “Liability”], slowly lurching toward your favorite city/Pierced through the heart, but never killed” play in the background. She then, quelle surprise, gets shot in the chest with an arrow (for she loves that “The Archer” imagery). As is to be expected, her wound bleeds glitter (as Kesha’s would). Then, as though fully surrendering to her bad reputation, she pulls the tablecloth off in one sweep and sends everyone running in fear, left by herself to eat and imbibe tiny food and drinks.

    Continuing to hang out with Devious Taylor (the “true” anti-hero within) doesn’t do much to help her self-esteem either as she’s pushed off the bed they’re jumping on together and judged harshly by Devious Tay when the scale that Insomniac Tay steps on informs her simply, “FAT.” Because, yes, even thin girls like Taylor have body image issues (but for something more authentic on that matter, one is best turning to Tove Lo’s “Grapefruit” and its accompanying video).

    Wanting to convey to viewers the full weight (no body image pun intended) of her directorial cachet, Swift is then certain to include a dialogue-laden segment that ties into her Knives Out-grafting plot in the lyrics, “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money/She thinks I left them in the will/The family gathers ’round and reads it/And then someone screams out/‘She’s laughing up at us from hell.’” This, in its own way, is one of the most candid statements about fame, and the highly specific fear that many celebrities must “secretly” have when entering into the unbreakable contract of becoming a parent. For can a child of such a person ever “love” their money-bags progenitor for pure reasons? Maybe that’s part of why Taylor has yet to commit to having one.

    It would certainly seem like a nightmare based on the will-reading scenario Taylor has come up with, featuring John Early as Chad, Mary Elizabeth Ellis as Kimber and Mike Birbiglia as Preston a.k.a. her money-grubbing children who get up in arms that she’s instructed her beach house should be turned into a cat sanctuary (a large portrait of “Old Taylor” with a gaggle of cats serving as the “in memoriam” photo next to the flower display). Chad refuses to believe that, in contrast, she’s bequeathed only thirteen cents each to her progeny, insisting she’s doing what she always does: leaving a secret hidden message in the will that would give them something more. But the asterisk added from Swift herself is, “P.S. There is no secret encoded message that means something else. Love, Taylor.”

    Accusing Chad of being responsible for this lack of inheritance after “trading in on Mom’s name” for most of his life (e.g., a book called Growing Up Swift and a podcast called Life Comes At You Swiftly), he bites back that Preston is constantly using Mom’s name at the country club and that Kimber is wearing her clothes right now. Kimber tries to say, “No I’m not,” but Preston backs up Chad with the citation, “That’s from Fearless Tour 2009.”

    As the bickering goes on, we transition back to “reality”—back to that house where Insomniac Taylor must dwell with all of her insecurities and paranoias. And with Devious Taylor… who pops up all giant to look at Insomniac Taylor from below as she’s drinking wine on the rooftop. As the two then sit side by side (now scaled to the same size), a third, even more giant Taylor than before proceeds to walk down the street toward them.

    The other two appear welcoming to this ramped-up grandiose spectacle version of themselves, offering their tiny-in-ultra-giant-Taylor’s-hands bottle of wine to her. Because, if anything is taken away from this video, it’s the suggestion that there’s a reason why so many musicians end up with a drinking problem. The “too big for this world” aspect of her persona that’s being played up ultimately speaking to how Swift often grapples with not being seen as a real person, but rather, as an “entity.” And surely, “entities” are immune to such regular people things as cirrhosis.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Innovation Stalls on Midnights As Taylor Swift Does A Lot of 2012-Era Musical Recycling While Joe Alwyn Remains Her Eternal Muse

    Innovation Stalls on Midnights As Taylor Swift Does A Lot of 2012-Era Musical Recycling While Joe Alwyn Remains Her Eternal Muse

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    While most insomniacs would settle for watching TV all night, Taylor Swift has shown us yet again just how “Type A” she can be by using some of her many sleepless nights for productivity purposes. Resulting in what is now her tenth album, Midnights. And yes, ten studio albums put out over the course of sixteen years is very impressive indeed (not to mention the work put into her re-recordings thus far). It puts Swift closely behind Madonna, who started all the way back in 1983, yet “only” has fourteen studio albums (fifteen, for those who want to include I’m Breathless). Rihanna might have one-upped Swift if she had kept up the pace of releasing an album a year (skipping a release just once in 2008 and then waiting four years in between Unapologetic and Anti), but, no, she had to gravitate toward the fashion and beauty industry instead. Lana Del Rey is the only who comes close to Swift’s prolificness, having almost the same number of records out despite having gotten her first official record release (Born to Die) six years after Swift’s.

    Maybe that’s part of why Swift felt the necessity to include her most comparable contemporary on this record, the only feature on the entire thing. But before we get to that, Swift starts us off with a very Harry Styles-esque tone and tempo (they did date, after all) called “Lavender Haze.” This being a title Swift grabbed when she heard it in a line from Mad Men and then confirmed that it was a popular turn of phrase in the 50s and early 60s. As a song that explores wanting to avoid having to deal with any of the media blitzkrieg that comes with someone of her fame level being in a relationship, she insists upon remaining in the lavender haze of a new love and its honeymoon period at all costs. Saying, “Get it off your chest/Get it off my desk” in that tone that reminds one of her saying, “Call it what you want, yeah,” Taylor indicates that she doesn’t care about the media’s bid for virality in dissecting her life. All she wants is to stay in her bliss. It’s therefore a song that proves you can be any age and get caught up in the googly-eyed version romance paraded in films and books, but the problems of adulthood infecting that kind of youthful outlook always tend to get in the way sooner or later.

    “Maroon” subsequently continues the color palette motif (something Lana Del Rey is also fond of). Musically disparate from anything she’s ever done, it’s a sound that itself has been done by many before her. Which brings us to the fact that Midnights has somewhat stalled Swift’s thirst for something like innovation. Just as Del Rey, she’s started to get too comfortable in the familiar formulas provided by Jack Antonoff, who himself reached a peak with the sound on Midnights via his own band Fun’s 2012 record, Some Nights (which not only reminds one of the title Midnights, but also has a similar album cover involving a lighter), featuring the seminal single, “We Are Young.”

    Musical genres come in cycles, that’s no secret. And the only person who was ever usually ahead of the curve on bringing those trends to the masses was Madonna (except starting in 2008, when she enlisted Timbaland, Pharrell and Justin Timberlake as producers on Hard Candy). Taylor herself has followed musical trends of the moment for most of her career, going the standard route of being a country star transitioning to pop (as Shania Twain and Faith Hill did). Even folklore and evermore were albums that tapped into a moment, speaking to the “stay home” laze of the pandemic era that Swift interpreted as “cottagecore.” Midnights seeks to not only shatter that era with 70s-inspired “going out” aesthetics, but also delves further back into the period when Swift was having her original success with Red in 2012. At that time, other acts like M83, Chvrches, Sleigh Bells and Phantogram were suffusing the landscape with the electropop/synth electronic sound that Swift eschewed for her careful treading along the line between country and pop.

    Nonetheless, Swift lends her signature songwriting style involving lament to what has already been a well-established musical trope from ten years ago. As a requisite “what might have been” song about a former lover, “Maroon” addresses one of the five themes Swift said inspired the record: self-hatred, revenge fantasies, “wondering what might have been,” falling in love and “falling apart.”

    In “Maroon,” a little bit of all five categories are embodied as she describes, “I wake with your memory over me/That’s a real fucking legacy, legacy (it was maroon)/And I wake with your memory over me/That’s a real fucking legacy to leave.” Luckily for the man she’s railing against in this song, the only person she hates more than him is herself, it would seem. At least, if the self-deprecating “Anti-Hero” is something to go by. This track, too, remains up-tempo and 80s-tinged as Swift rues, “It’s me/I’m the problem, it’s me.” Declaring, “It’s me” in that way she once said, “It’s you” on Lover’s “Cruel Summer.”

    She provides one of her most evocative verses of the record when she adds, “Sometimes, I feel like everybody is a sexy baby/And I’m a monster on the hill/Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city/Pierced through the heart, but never killed.” Lana Del Rey doesn’t seem to mind, willingly collaborating on the next song, “Snow on the Beach.” Alas, it is rather underwhelming as a musical marriage, with Taylor monopolizing all the vocals and Lana disappearing into the background (she got far more play in her collab with two other major pop stars, Ariana Grande and Miley Cyrus). And, considering all the sexual tension between the two in terms of how much they orbit one another and echo each other’s songwriting style, maybe it was to be expected that this track would be an anticlimax.

    Even the lyrics are somewhat reaching in terms of a “trying too hard” to be poetic bent, with Swift and Del Rey noting, “And it’s like snow at the beach/Weird, but fucking beautiful/Flying in a dream/Stars by the pocketful/You wanting me.” At the very least, Swift offers her best analogy since, “I come back stronger than a 90s trend,” with, “Now I’m all for you, like Janet.”

    Going back to her more country twang (think: the Fearless era), “You’re on Your Own, Kid” shows us that Swift still has the Lana songwriting technique on her mind as she wields Del Rey’s favorite season to reference in the intro line, “Summer went away, still the yearning stays.” With a “tis the damn season” aura in its storytelling, Swift recounts, “I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this/I hosted parties and starved my body/Like I’d be saved by a perfect kiss/The jokes weren’t funny, I took the money/My friends from home don’t know what to say/I looked around in a blood-soaked gown.” That latter image being an undeniable allusion to Carrie. A character that even tall, blonde and thin Swift could relate to as she was ostracized by the people in her school. Sort of like everyone walking off the dance floor at Christina Aguilera’s prom when the DJ played “Genie in a Bottle.”

    Realizing that she never should have looked to someone else for salvation or validation anyway, she comes to the conclusion, “You’re on your own, kid/Yeah, you can face this/You’re on your own, kid/You always have been.” The “kid” part coming across like it was condescending inspiration from Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca.

    Using a vocoder to introduce the lyrics on “Midnight Rain” (because this record obviously needs to have a song with the album’s title somewhere in it), it’s the only sonic moment that doesn’t seem entirely generic as Swift proceeds to revert to her folklore/evermore narrative vibe (think: “The Last American Dynasty”). And, as was the case during “You’re On Your Own, Kid,” Swift reflects on small-town life and ultimately escaping it, this being a rumination, yet again, on the “what might have been” theme. So it is that Swift states, “My town was a wasteland/Full of cages, full of fences/Pageant queens and big pretenders/But for some, it was paradise.” “Some” like the boy she has “no choice” but to leave in order to pursue her big dreams in the big city. And yet, once she’s achieved her fame goals, she can’t help but “peer through a window/A deep portal, time travel/All the love we unravel/And the life I gave away/‘Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain.” But surely Swift would have thought the opposite if she had given up her career ambitions to play the little wife. Even so, in her late-night hours, she has to admit, “I guess sometimes we all get/Some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted/And I never think of him/Except on midnights like this.”

    Commencing with a somewhat paltry imitation of Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8r Boi”-style “portrait-painting,” “Question…?” describes, “Good girl/Sad boy/Big city/Wrong choices.” The intro has a brief tinge of “Blank Space” with the same light instrumentation that also uses “I remember” from “Out of the Woods.” A track about humiliation and ill communication, it’s one of the most deviating from a lyrical perspective. So, too, is “Vigilante Shit,” which continues her wannabe Lana angle (this time from an Ultraviolence era perspective, which, to re-emphasize the time period Swift is mirroring sonically, was released in 2013). Most notably when Swift wields the line, “Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man.” It glistens among all the rest of the tracks, with a moodier, more visceral backdrop than most of the other upbeat electro rhythms.

    Almost as “glistening” but not quite is a song about a girl who loses her shine by putting all her self-worth into the hands of a man. And yes, “Bejeweled” provides some of Tay’s most “poetic” lyrics on Midnights. Including isms like, “Didn’t notice you walkin’ all over my peace of mind/In the shoes I gave you as a present” and “Familiarity breeds contempt/So put me in the basement/When I want the penthouse of your heart.” In the end, she decides, “What’s a girl gonna do? A diamond’s gotta shine.” That it does—which she already made vaguely clear on “mirrorball.”

    Despite now contributing to the cultural lexicon with her own “Labyrinth,” it is the movie of the same name that will forever reign supreme. Plus, it’s a bit douchey to pre-quote oneself. Regardless, Taylor did just that with “Labyrinth” by incorporating the lyrics, “Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out” into her commencement speech earlier this year at NYU. And even though such words might sound like part of a self-help book, the song is actually yet another ode to Joe Alwyn saving her from the sour taste (something Olivia Rodrigo knows about) that had lingered in her mouth from romances past. Accordingly, she sings, “Uh-oh, I’m fallin’ in love/Oh no, I’m fallin’ in love again/Oh, I’m fallin’ in love/I thought the plane was goin’ down/How’d you turn it right around?” Taylor will likely find that this metaphor is going to come back to bite her in the ass the next time there’s a major plane crash. Plus, being such a “New Yorker” nowadays, you’d think she’d know it’s still “too soon” after 9/11 to talk about plane crashes so casually.

    Gears shift on the maudlin love theme with “Karma.” Never mind that MARINA already had an untouchable song called “Karma” from 2019’s Love + Fear, Taylor has decided to create her own edition. Where MARINA’s was inspired by the #MeToo movement, and particularly Harvey Weinstein, Swift opts, as usual, to make things more specifically about herself and go for Scooter Braun’s jugular. What’s more, she borrows from another electropop band that had a moment in the 00s, CSS, by saying, “Karma is my boyfriend.” CSS already used that metaphor to greater perfection with the lyric, “Music is my boyfriend” (which is how Taylor sounds when she replaces “music” with “karma”) on the single, “Music Is My Hot Hot Sex.”

    Elsewhere, she uses highly specific details to allude to the fact that she’s talking about Braun as she accuses, “Spider boy, king of thieves/Weave your little webs of opacity/My pennies made your crown/Trick me once, trick me twice/Don’t you know that cash ain’t the only price?/It’s coming back around.” At the same time, this song also applies more than ever to Swift’s beef with Ye (formerly Kanye) that started all those years ago in 2009. And yes, Swift has definitely won that war as we watch Ye daily fall further from “grace.”

    On the next track, again one must say: never mind that Florence + the Machine already had an untouchable song called “Sweet Nothing” with Calvin Harris (in, quelle coincidence, 2012), Swift wants to have one too. Hers being more slowed down and stripped back. All for the purposes of, what a shock, providing a bathetic homage to Alwyn as she croons, “I found myself a-running home to your sweet nothings/Outside they’re push and shoving/You’re in the kitchen humming/All that you ever wanted from me was nothing.”

    Swift ramps up her Alwyn prose a notch on “Mastermind,” which allows her to spotlight her inner creep as she freely admits things like, “I laid the groundwork, and then/Just like clockwork/The dominoes cascaded in the line/What if I told you I’m a mastermind?/And now you’re minе/It was all by design.” Well, if one were Alwyn, maybe they would quote Taylor back to her by saying, “You need to calm down.”

    In another verse, Swift plays up her “loser” days as an unknown youth, lamenting, “No one wanted to play with me as a little kid/So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since/To make them love me and make it seem effortless.” Naturally, it’s anything but—and this is part of why Swift has been called “calculated” so many times throughout her career. But maybe it was all worth it for Swift to be able to come up with a riposte like, “This is the first time I’ve felt the need to confess/And I swear I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian/‘Cause I care.” The ultimate curse, but one that many a Sagittarian is burdened with while pretending not to be.

    While the standard edition of the album stops here, the “3am Edition” persists with “The Great War.” Once upon a time, that was what World War I was called, with the assumption that there wouldn’t be a second one. Now, Swift seems to be putting out this record at a moment when WWIII feels like an inevitability. Hence, the war metaphor being only too real despite most people of the millennial and Gen Z set only “experiencing” anything like battle in their video games. As she did on Lover’s “Afterglow,” Swift speaks of a great peace that will come after a great (relationship) war, assuring, “All that bloodshed, crimson clover/Uh-huh, the bombs were close and/My hand was the one you reached for/All throughout the Great War/Always remember/Uh-huh, the burning embers/I vowed not to fight anymore/If we survived the Great War.”

    “Bigger Than the Whole Sky” continues the theme of “The Great War,” indicating a brutal, destitute aftermath as Swift sings softly, “No words appear before me in the aftermath/Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears/Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness/‘Cause it’s all over now, all out to sea.” A line like that is ripe with the “we could have had it all” sorrow that pervades so much of Midnights.

    And, again ruminating on that theme, she inserts into the chorus, “What could’ve been, would’ve been/What should’ve been you/What could’ve been, would’ve been you.” Such lyrics also set things up for a later song called “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve.”

    But not before “Paris.” Indeed, not one to shy away from cliches, perhaps it was overdue for Swift to have a song named after the “City of Love” (though it’s really the City of Light). But Edith Piaf-flavored this number is not as the up-tempo rhythms of earlier on the record return for Swift to croon, “Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling/No, I didn’t see the news/‘Cause we were somewhere else/Stumbled down pretend alleyways, cheap wine/Make believe it’s champagne I was taken by the view/Like we were in Paris, oh.”

    Here it’s clear she’s using the city as an imaginary escape hatch (even though she could definitely just take her overused private jet there if she wanted to). Far from the scrutiny and as a place where people—even famous ones—assume they can remain in the “lavender haze” previously mentioned on the first track. So it is that Swift insists her and Alwyn’s love can stay protected if they just “fly over bullshit (as Beyoncé phrases it on “Alien Superstar”). If they just keep pretending “like we were somewhere else/Like we were in Paris.” The power of “pure imagination” also applies when interpreting the flashing lights of paparazzi cameras as nothing more that the shimmering lights of the Eiffel Tower (dimmed much earlier in the night now as a result of the energy crisis that won’t affect Swift). Thus, the lyric, “Let the only flashing lights/Be the tower at midnight.”

    As one of only three tracks on Midnights produced by Aaron Dessner, “High Infidelity” possesses a different tincture than the others crafted by Antonoff. Yet not different in the sense of Swift bringing up still another relationship past, this time likely referring to her transition from Calvin Harris to Tom Hiddleston circa 2016. With a retro video game-esque sound faintly punctuating the music in the background, Swift speaks directly to someone “like” Harris when she says, “You know there’s many different ways/That you can kill the one you love/The slowest way is never loving them enough.” The mention of the date April 29th also happens to be when “This Is What You Came For” was released. A.k.a. the single that prompted Harris to snap at his ex on Twitter with such venoms as, “I know you’re off tour and you need someone new to try and bury like Katy ETC but I’m not that guy, sorry.” This being a result of the real songwriter behind “This Is What You Came For”—Swift—being unveiled.

    Call it just another relationship malfunction. Or “Glitch”—a song that refers to Tay’s enduring romance with Alwyn as a “glitch in the matrix” that the system never thought was possible or would last. As the briefest little ditty on Midnights at two minutes and twenty-eight seconds, Swift makes it count with “sweet nothings” like, “But it’s been two-thousand one-hundred and ninety days of our love blackout (our love is blacking out)/The system’s breaking down.” That number of days adding up to, you guessed it, the six years Swift and Alwyn have been together.

    And, having been together that long, it’s no wonder Swift has to keep dipping back into her arsenal of exes for additional inspiration. As is the case on “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” which further hits us over the head with Swift’s preferred motif of the record: regret about a relationship. In this instance, she doesn’t wonder what might have been, but only wishes it had never been. The likely inspiration being John Mayer, as she mentions her age during this dalliance as nineteen (Lana, too, calls out being nineteen in “White Dress”—must be something affecting about that age). And, just as Jessica Simpson, Taylor would end up ruing the day she ever got into Mayer’s clutches, bemoaning, “God rest my soul I miss who I used to be/The tomb won’t close/Stained glass windows in my mind/I regret you all the time/I can’t let this go, I fight with you in my sleep” (this last line harkening back to the midnights/insomniac theme). That other beloved topic, revenge, is also peppered in with the lines, “Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts/Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.” So it looks like Jake Gyllenhaal is only a runner-up to Mayer’s supreme level of dickishness.

    Sounding slightly like a romantic 80s ballad, the true closer of Midnights is “Dear Reader”—though, of course, what she really means is “Dear Listener.” Seeming to have enjoyed her life advice-giving status as a commencement speaker, she clearly had such a speech in mind when she wrote this track. For it offers “counsel” on how to live one’s life, mostly by staying true to oneself—yet also “bending” when necessary. As Jane Eyre did. And maybe that’s why Swift opted to reference Charlotte Brontë’s literary opus with the song’s title, famously taken from the mouth of the eponymous character when she announces, “Dear reader, I married him” (perhaps foreshadowing her own marriage to Alwyn). Even after the “him” in question goes blind in the fire, placing Eyre in the role of caretaker (but isn’t that what all women end up becoming when they consent to the part of “wife”?).

    Painting herself as a potentially unreliable narrator when she says, “Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart,” Swift still does her best to sound cocksure when she adds, “And if you don’t recognize yourself/That means you did it right.” Even though, just a moment ago in the song that preceded this, she asserts, “I miss who I used to be.” This dichotomy, this push-and-pull between wanting to “remain as one is” while also wanting to burst out of the proverbial chrysalis is what invades Midnights. For we can hear Swift grappling with attempts at being “avant-garde” sonically (you know, for someone who still “has to be” commercial), while staying as true as she can be to the girl she’s always been, therefore the musical and lyrical style (lovelorn, vengeful, regretful, etc.) she’s always relied upon. Which is something of a shame in that someone at her height could release anything at this point without worry of losing her devotees.

    To put it this way, Midnights is not Swift turning her back on the mainstream in any way remotely like what, say, Madonna did with Erotica thirty years ago (this particular album being released almost exactly the same day as Midnights, on October 20th). And if Swift is the artist she seems to want to be, more risk-taking is needed for future records. Something that goes beyond just another “solid win.”

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