Let’s not get it twisted, I have never really liked Taylor Swift. I think she tries far too hard to be that friend that is obsessed with being the human-embodiment of Tumblr and Pinterest’s love child. But, there are two kinds of people who don’t like Taylor Swift: the kind that doesn’t care for her and her music, and the kind that would prefer not to deal with her, but can differentiate that she and her music are two different things altogether.
I wouldn’t say that I hate Taylor, because I don’t. I hate people that deserve to be hated, like Hitler, or the Anti-Christ, or that girl that cried over Sanjaya in 2007. All joking aside, though, I simply dislike Taylor Swift, but I am a tentative fan of her music.
I went out on the day of the release and bought the deluxe edition at Target, because if I’m going to commit to buying my first Taylor Swift album, I might as well go all the way. I unwrapped it as I got in my car, praying to all that is holy that I didn’t just waste $15 on something I’d end up not liking. The first thing that happened was a small envelope plopped into my lap full of faux Polaroid pictures of Taylor doing “hipster” things with lyrics written underneath it. I flipped through them briefly, rolled my eyes, and tossed them to the side. That child’s play would have excited a super-fan, who no doubt has already put them up in a neat-looking grid in her bedroom. I was here for the music.
And. The. Music. Was. Marvelous.
By the opening beat of track 2, “Blank Space,” Taylor had me driving down the street, windows down, finger-snapping above my head, screaming, “YAAAAaaaAAAaAS, Taylor!”
And it only got better.
Unlike her previous album, Red, none of the songs from 1989 sound like the last. True to her word, a lot of the instrumental sounds vaguely like something that could play at the end of a Molly Ringwald movie from back in the day, but with notes of Lana Del Rey and Lorde mixed in.
And even though some of her choruses are mostly the repetitive drivel you would expect from any great pop song, her lyrics are true to Taylor’s fashion: honest and relatable. And even more so, now that she’s not blatantly saying which ex-boo-thang each song is about.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Would you just shut up and tell me which one is about Harry Styles?!” If I had to take one guess, I would say probably track 3, “Style,” because, well, it’s obvious. And also the description of this guy sounds a lot like him. But Taylor is being a lot more tight-lipped about her musical male conquests. Even the coded lyric book only leaves you with vague sentences that end up meaning nothing to someone who wants the real dirt.
This album is truly about change. Gone are the days of Taylor’s past, when all her songs were about crying on guitars and Tim McGraw. In the foreword in the lyric booklet, Taylor talks about how she believes all people are capable of change, and how she’s not the same person who believed that life was a fairytale that ended with riding off into the sunset. The stories she wanted to tell and revisit demanded a different sound because she was seeing things differently than she used to. And to me, this at least sounds genuine.
On top of 3 bonus tracks that came with my Target Exclusive purchase, the album came with three “songwriting voice memos,” which is three different glimpses into how Taylor puts together songs. You get to hear rough cuts of lyrics, melodies, and instrumentals.
How does 1989 stand up to her other albums? The answer is, it doesn’t. It shouldn’t. Until now, Taylor has never released a sound like this. Yes, she’s dabbled in straying from her country roots, but she has never blatantly shut it out. There is no way you could compare this album to Speak Now, or Red, and certainly not her earliest albums. 1989 is a different animal altogether. From start to finish, it is a pleasure to listen to and experience these stories of change as Taylor truly comes into her own as an artist.
I might not like her, but 1989 is certainly something that I can get on board with. Her dancing on the other hand…