Karma’s a bitch. I love Taylor Swift.
My history with Taylor Swift has been mostly well, scorn and sniggering. Sounds harsh but something about Taylor Swift has been chafing me like a brand new ill-fitting shoe. The never-ending thinly veiled references to Harry Styles like he’d be the only game in town (yes, I know it’s Calvin Harris now) and the very public displays of rocking out in the audience of award shows have made me tune off. Very attention seeking, very….teenage. And she is 25.
However, listening to 1989 album was like an epiphany. It wasn’t the silly gossip column antics that made me tune off as much as it was the music. I never ” bought” the country act. One of my favorite Taylor Swift defenses was “When has Taylor Swift been country?”. (“Love Story” maybe… but even that was skating on the wrong side of pop country if you ask me). In 1989 what I hear is the sound of Taylor Swift finally coming to her own. She is a gloriously talented and infectious pop artist with a whole album full of witty and fizzy pop songs. Obviously she is tugging at my heartstrings with her 1980’s influences (the best decade ever!) and even though she was born in December of 1989 and thus nearly having to dig leverage from early grunge rather than late 80s synth pop, it’s all here in 16 glossy gems.
Ironic that my favorite track on the album is Style. I know, I know. Styles and Swift in a car, the night still and silent around them, low lights and the suggestion of Kendall Jenner flickering in the shadows. It’s all there in the lyrics. Or that’s what she would have you believe. All know is that Style…. travels.
Images: Google.
