On July 23, I woke up late, the way I had most days during quarantine. When I physically forced myself to roll over and find my phone, I checked Instagram first. Then I received the best news I heard since quarantine started: Taylor Swift was releasing her new album at midnight. My shock turned into overwhelming excitement. Usually I anticipated the release of a Taylor Swift album for months. This time, I waited about 13 hours. For the rest of the day, I was on a Taylor Swift high. I told all of my friends about the release of the album, subjected my boyfriend to my fangirl antics and told my coworkers that nothing could ruin my mood.
When Folklore released that night, I loved it. But then again, I knew I would. I stayed up until 2 a.m. with my earbuds in, texting my boyfriend as we both eased our way through the entirety of the tracks. What I didn’t know at the time was howmuch I needed this album and how much it coincided with my life. A day hasn’t passed since its release when I don’tlisten to at least a few songs. With the pandemic raging outside my door and the school year offering its own ups and downs, Folklore threw a lifeline to me when I didn’t realize I was drowning.
By the time Folklore manifested in July, home and work trapped me in a limbo. My mind hadn’t wondered out on adventures all summer. The four walls of my bedroom boxed in my imagination. This album changed that. Swift excels in storytelling, and through her I could explore again. In “the last great american dynasty” I saw the sands and coastlines of Rhode Island. In “invisible string” I felt the crisp air of an autumn day and heard the music playing in cab rides. When I visited the beach with my boyfriend later that summer, we listened to the entire album again in my attempt to explain a love I had no words for.
It’s common for me to play Swift albums on repeat when they first come out. But, I went to an extreme on this album. With the extra time on my hands because of quarantine, I had time to analyze all of the songs. I knew my automatic favorites on the first listen: “my tears ricochet,” “exile,” and “illicit affairs.” But, with each round of listening, a new one drew me in. Soon my favorite was “mirrorball.” Then it was “seven.” After a week of listening, I connected to them all.
In true Swift fashion, she hid links and messages in her songs – creating a scavenger hunt for listeners confined to their headphones and speakers. I sat in awe the first time someone explained that “cardigan,” “august” and “betty” were interlinked to tell a full story from different perspectives. I poured over posts of fans speculating about meanings and connections within the songs. The internet buzzed over something other than the coronavirus.
Folklore cultivated the rawness that Swift exhibited throughout her years in the industry. While listening to the album, I felt like I was listening to a big sister tell me about her life. I felt her dejection, her yearning and apprehension. Even if those exact sentiments weren’t echoed in my own life, my eyes watered with her descriptions. In one album and 17 songs (if you include the bonus track), Swift was able to capture the ups and downs of relationships, as well as life. Listening to the album is like listening to the meandering thoughts that keep me up at night. It’s a time of pensiveness that coexists with the serenity of knowing that someone understands those feelings.
This past summer, one of my friends broke up with her long-term boyfriend. When we moved in together, I knew she was going through a difficult time. We played Folklore on the drives home, to the store and in the apartments. Swifts words filled the silence at times when our own couldn’t. Sometimes they hit too close to home, and the album had to be turned off. Other times, the flowing verses of Swift’s words assured us that our hard times would pass in the same ways her’s had.
“My gut is telling me that if you make something you love, you should just put it out into the world,” Swift said in an Instagram post announcing the album. “That’s the side of uncertainty I can get on board with.” It seems like we are always uncertain right now. Uncertain about a future with coronavirus, uncertain about the continuation of online schooling and uncertain about the future of the country. With uncertainty filling the air like smoke, it feels like we’re chocking. However, Swift’s album serves as a reminder that greenery grows from fires. The things that seem to be burning down now can create something more beautiful than anyone expected — something that brings music back to our lives like Folklore.