Children Play House. Grownups Play Taylor Swift.
It’s been 10 days since the release of Taylor Swift’s latest album, and I’m somewhat unsettled by how much my reaction to it has shifted with so little time and so (relatively) few re-listens.
I initially listened to the whole thing on a series of dog walks, and while there were a few titles I instantly enjoyed (Florida!!!! Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me, the lyrics of Clara Bow), my general feeling was that it was a lot of very similar sounding music. Which is fine! But I didn’t feel much while listening, nor did I imagine that changing. I figured it would be nice background music but it certainly didn’t move me like tracks from Folklore or Midnights did.
Since that first (long) listen, my daughter and I have listened to mostly the first half of TTPD every time we’re in the car. Her top requests are Fortnight, My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long London, and I Can Do It With A Broken Heart. My top requests are I Can Do It With A Broken Heart, So Long London, my three initial favorites mentioned above, as well as my slower-to-burn favorites, including Black Dog and I Can Fix Him. Occasionally, out of laziness, we’ll listen to the songs that come between our faves. But mostly we stick to the ones we know we like.
I spent much of the weekend doing yard/garden work and was unnerved by these songs playing nonstop in my head, by my brain’s inability to stop screaming about old habits dying screaming, about leaping from gallows and levitating down your street, and about feeling so depressed but acting like it’s my birthday. Every day! The quiet creep of this album into my psyche disarmed me, even as someone who loves a lot of Taylor Swift’s music.
So when my mind wasn’t assaulting me with visions of the word mine being written on my upper thigh, I tried to understand what it is about Swift’s music that so effectively burrows into me, even when I don’t believe it’s capable of doing so.
The reason, I guess, is fairly obvious.