The truth is that she is a talented artist who has reinvigorated popular music as a storytelling medium—but who has, all along, suffered from some quality-control issues.
The Tortured Poets Department, her 11th studio album, could recalibrate the way we talk about her.
Much of the album is a dreary muddle, but with strange and surprising charms, and a couple of flashes of magic.
(Tortured Poets features one song that’s unambiguously about him, “The Alchemy,” laden with terrible football puns.)
But the album makes it sound like Swift was seriously hung up on Healy, and he broke her heart.
Perhaps the title and library-themed marketing of The Tortured Poets Department is at last a self-aware prank, meant to acknowledge that her lyrics can indeed be a bit … tortured.
On the scathing diss track “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,” Swift sounds genuinely bewildered by how she’s been betrayed.
“I’ve never had an album where I needed songwriting more than I needed it on Tortured Poets,” Swift said earlier this year, and the results—Swift unleashing unpolished thoughts over lots of rote music—testify to what she meant.
This album is passable. I am aware that there are two opposing views on Taylor Swift: either her fans see her as the great savior of English-language literature and the arts in the twenty-first century, or the haters claim she is just a complete moron put out to deceive the public by the devil record industry. In actuality, she is a gifted musician who has revived popular music as a storytelling tool, but who has always struggled with quality control.
She may change the way we talk about her with her eleventh studio album, The Tortured Poets Department. The album is mostly a dismal jumble, but it also has some odd and unexpected charms and a few magical moments. This record is far too long and uneven to be considered shrewd from any perspective. It is neither a work of unquestionable genius nor does it feel like it was created by a committee of wealthy interests. (And this assessment is predicated on the 16 tracks found on the main album; she unintentionally released an additional 15 tracks earlier today). She’s simply thinking through an odd period in her life.
That chapter, depending on how you look at it, either started before she dated actor Joe Alwyn in 2016 or ended early in the new year after their breakup. Although it’s never easy to tell fact from fiction in Swift’s songs, many assumed Tortured Poets would be about the darker aspects of her longest relationship because of the album’s ominous cover art and insider joke title (Alwyn belonged to a group chat called “Tortured Man Club”). Instead, a significant portion of the album seems to be focused on a character who reminds listeners of Matty Healy, the frontman of the rock band The 1975, thanks to his tattoos, suit-and-tie attire, and dubious reputation.
Healy had seemed to be a bit part of her life up until this point. After the breakup with Alwyn, it was reported that she and he had hung out briefly in 2014. They then seemed to rekindle their romance. Following a brief period of frenzied and uncomfortable media attention, during which time she apologized for making racial jokes about rapper Ice Spice, among other things, she quickly moved on to the NFL player Travis Kelce. (The Alchemy, a song from Tortured Poets that is rife with awful football puns, is blatantly about the subject. However, the album gives the impression that Swift was deeply infatuated with Healy and that he had wounded her heart. She creates a story about breaking free from a long-term romantic relationship and falling into the arms of a wild child she has long harbored feelings for, who later mistreats and abuses her.
Much of the music is cold and lifeless, despite the story’s spicy and sensual elements. Although writer/producer Jack Antonoff has shown throughout the years that he is capable of writing a wide variety of songs, this album will only serve to further cement his reputation as a purveyor of formulaic, retro synth pop. Aaron Dessner, the other primary contributor to the album, also doesn’t have any more innovative orchestration. Rather than through intricate interaction between the vocalist and instrumentation, the songs often develop through the slow accumulation of elements—gloomy bass lines, spindly guitars, echoing harmonies, etc. Swift’s theatrical and breathy singing style is reminiscent of the better work of her friends Lana Del Rey and Stevie Nicks, the latter of whom contributed a poem to the liner notes.
This musical approach is dull, both in and of itself and in light of her prior accomplishments. However, it accomplishes two goals. One is to express the boredom she seemed to have experienced in her ex-partner, a man who never showed her the level of affection she required. In the poignant song “So Long, London,” she says, “Every breath feels like the rarest air when you’re not sure if he wants to be there.”. The production also serves as a neutral background for Swift’s words, much like ruled paper makes writing readable. She wants her message to be understood by all of us.
Her words often come across as rambling rather than well-written songs, which is the issue. The song’s title, “You Smoked and Ate Seven Bars of Chocolate,” has already drawn mockery from online commentators. Swift sings, “We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist.”. She’s conjuring up a very believable scene of intimate, at-home bullshitting with a partner, which makes this a standout track on an album full of jumbled metaphors. It gets even funnier when she tells her conceited boyfriend, “We’re modern idiots; you’re not Dylan Thomas, and I’m not Patti Smith / This ain’t the Chelsea Hotel.”. “.
Though Swift has never shied away from being treated like the Millennial Patti Smith, this line is startling nonetheless. The self-aware prank that acknowledges that her lyrics can be a bit… tortured may be hinted at by the title and library-themed marketing of The Tortured Poets Department. However, this does not lessen the discomfort of having to endure her thoughtless use of metaphorical language. I wish I could unhear the part where it says, “The smoke cloud billows out his mouth like a freight train through a small town.”. She speaks of being “handcuffed to the spell I was under” before bringing up wizardry in an elaborate metaphor comparing her relationship to a prison. “.
It’s emotion, not words, that makes these sunny moments possible. Her keening voice and the live-sounding drums on “But Daddy I Love Him” and “Guilty as Sin?” are such a perfect match that it’s a shame we don’t get more of these country-rock flirtations. The album’s other standout tracks are furious and petty expressions of emotion. “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” blends screamed refrains with cozy pop sections to bring back the intense drama of her 2017 album Reputation. With its expansive dynamic shifts and catchy RandB inflections, “Down Bad” also pays homage to Reputation. Swift seems genuinely shocked by how she’s been let down in the biting diss track “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived.”. “Were you working on a book?” she queries. Did you work as a cell spy or a sleeper?
Even though these moments are powerful, it is depressing and not in a good way to hear Swift criticize yet another sultry ex after a career of songs that do the same thing. Once again, she is putting herself in the shoes of the unsuspecting victim who has been duped by an unredeemable villain. She uses saints and sinners as stock characters to give a schematic view of adult relationships. The outcomes can come across as apathetic and narrow-minded in addition to being predictable to hear. She often brings up her partners’ drug use and mental health issues, for instance, not as characteristics of a complex person but rather as shortcomings that she finds difficult to, to use her own phrase, “fix.”. “.
I’m not trying to preach. Swift deftly spends “But Daddy I Love Him” tormenting “judgmental creeps who say they want what’s best for me.” Pop is an art form of simplification. Artists are flawed individuals who are figuring life out as they go; they are not the Messiah. Swift stated earlier this year, “I’ve never had an album where I needed songwriting more than I needed it on Tortured Poets,” and the outcome—Swift releasing raw ideas over a ton of repetitive music—testifies to what she meant. Over the years, she has sang about many honeymoon-to-heartbreak stories, all of which have taught us that idolizing someone else will only lead to disappointment. Will it finally hit home?
