Taylor Swift Glitch Official Lyric Video
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“Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby and I’m a monster on the hill.”
It’s that time of the year again! About six months have passed since the most recent Taylor Swift album, Midnights, debuted, so I’ve sat with it long enough to have a good idea of how I’d rank the songs on it. My brain works in lists, after all. Of course, it’s always subject to change, but what is not subject to change is the fact that Midnights is yet another stellar album in Taylor’s oeuvre and these things are pretty impossible to quantify. I love them! I love Taylor Swift! So, the bias is strong, but it was my favorite album of 2022, so trust and love me and share yours with me, too. Please also note that this rundown of the Midnights tracks includes both the 3am Edition and the Target exclusive song, “Hits Different.”
21. “Glitch”
There’s just nothing for me to hold onto with “Glitch.” It’s not the worst song I’ve ever placed last in a Taylor Swift ranking, but it’s just kind of nothing. Techno-driven, “Glitch” feels like the kind of song you’d never wait to hear play through on a video game loading screen. You’d just press start instead. In ten years, when Taylor releases the Midnights vault tracks, a few will be a banger and we’ll all wonder how they were cut and “Glitch” wasn’t. That feels harsh, but ultimately, the song just isn’t my thing and that’s okay.
20. “Midnight Rain”
I know, I know. “Midnight Rain” is a favorite for many, but it doesn’t work for me. I will say that it is probably the song that has been stuck in my head the most since Midnights bowed in October, but I am always dismayed by this. It’s one of the songs that is catchy by default, but that I never embrace. It’s like “Absolutely” by Nine Days or “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang. I just want something new to get stuck in my head, you know? Anyway, I do think “Midnight Rain” has merit and a stripped-down, acoustic version of it could sit splendidly with me. Maybe it’s on the Eras Tour (no spoilers) and it’s superb! But that doesn’t exist, as far as I know. There was a version I heard on TikTok once, but it was just “Midnight Rain” sped up. Which brings me to my next point. That hook for “Midnight Rain” that’s just Taylor’s voice modulated to sound somewhat robotic? I don’t get it. I’m sure there’s an Antonoffian, musical reason for why it defines this track, but it sinks the entire song, in my opinion.
19. “High Infidelity”
There is part of me that is envious of Atlanta Swifties, as they will be able to take in the Eras Tour on April 29. I do really want to know where Taylor was on April 29 and I get the feeling that Georgians will learn on that night. Aside from that fun, mysterious lyric about a specific date, there’s not much else that connects for me with “High Infidelity.” It’s a kitschy turn-of-phrase for the title and among Taylor’s more clever, but the song is kind of meandering. Not only does it never build towards anything or crescendo in any way, but it never feels like it’s building anywhere in the first place. It’s just stuck in the 3am Edition with no driving reason to be there.
18. “Vigilante Shit”
“Vigilante Shit” is where we go to the next tier on Midnights, for me. “Glitch,” “Midnight Rain,” and “High Infidelity” comprise the bottom-tier of Midnights: Songs I Don’t Dig. “Vigilante Shit” begins the next tier: Pretty Good Songs! So, from here on out, I do enjoy everything. “Vigilante Shit” was the song I was most excited for when she kept picking up those analog phones every other day, revealing song titles as she went. Obviously, it didn’t meet that expectation, but there’s still a lot to like about it. Admittedly, some of her attempts at being a bad-ass come across in a cringe manner (“Draw the cat eyes sharp enough to kill a man” will never rev me up the way she intended). I know it’s also cringe to say cringe, but I only invoke the word because she said it was okay to be cringe in her NYU commencement speech. That’s what makes “Vigilante Shit” work; she knows she’s not a bad-ass. But she’s having fun with the Reputation-esque notion all the same. If you can get past some of her lyricisms, you can have fun with it, too.
17. “Labyrinth”
If it’s true that Midnights was born of a sleepless Taylor revisiting all of her past eras for lyrical inspiration (and musical replication, as with “Vigilante Shit” and the Reputation of it all, “Bejeweled” and the Speak Now of it all, etc.), then “Labyrinth” exists out of time. The major influence on “Labyrinth” seems to be Midnights itself. It could — maybe — fit towards the tail-end of Lover, but it would be a challenge to go back-to-back with this and “It’s Nice to Have a Friend.” Instead, “Labyrinth” is its own remediation, crafted at the exact point Taylor and Jack are at in their career collaboration. Which is to say: it’s not out of time. “Labyrinth” is as specific as its refrain, “I’m falling in love,” is vague. Most of the album feels like frustrated and sleepless nights, but “Labyrinth” feels like that moment when you finally begin to drift off, complete with peculiar jolts (a synthesizer being stepped on with no focused chord) and dreamy melodies. What could be more of a dream than falling asleep knowing you have another day to fall deeper in love anyway?
16. “Bigger Than the Whole Sky”
There’s irony in the title, “Bigger Than the Whole Sky,” because most of the song takes place in the clouds and — by definition — clouds can never be bigger than the sky. But Taylor’s breathy head voice reaches further up with each verse, as if drifting aimlessly among the clouds, similar to how one drifts aimlessly after a loss as significant as the one described over the course of the song. Many have ascribed the song’s meaning to being connected to miscarriages, but there is enough ambiguity that anyone can ascribe their own loss to the song’s verbal intricacies.
15. “Dear Reader”
Is “Dear Reader” the ultimate Swiftie rebuke that even a man whose name begins with “Sco-” would be unable to write? Not entirely. Taylor would never eschew her loyal following. Instead, she turns the cult of her own persona inward and reflects on what it means for so many people to hang on every nonexistent hint in her Instagram posts. We are the Reader. She is the unobjectified object of our adoration. In my interpretation of “Dear Reader,” she’s not opposed to being that, but rather she wants to caution those who look to her as a guiding light for relationship, life, and confidence advice. Anyone who’s ever posted a TikTok that says “I’m entering my Reputation era” or “We all have our own John Mayers” or referred to her as Taylor instead of Swift in an article they wrote while ranking her songs because they feel much closer to her than they would with, say, Ariana Grande is the Reader here that Taylor wants to say to: I don’t know what I’m doing! I am no sage! A little bit introspection, a little bit impostor syndrome (however inaccurate), but fully thoughtful and generous. Musically, it does drag a bit for me, but I am at least grateful that it employs much less vocal modulation than “Midnight Rain” does.
14. “Sweet Nothing”
Some of my favorite songs in Taylor’s oeuvre are the “sweet nothings.” “Stay Stay Stay,” “Paper Rings,” “How You Get the Girl.” They all belong to a sub-genre of Taylor Swiftia that revolves around being in love and feeling cute about it and not much else beyond this evolution of the “teeny bopper” mentality. While some dismiss them as frivolous, I adore them. They’re always jams and they’re always so adorably romantic! “Sweet Nothing,” while a bit slower in tempo, slots right into this lineage with its upbeat, lilting melody and lovey-dovey lyrics penned once for Joe Alwyn. “On the way home / I wrote a poem,” “You’re in the kitchen humming,” “I’m too soft for all of it.” Me too, man.
13. “Bejeweled”
I thought about just writing, “Nice!” for this and moving on, but I just had too many thoughts about it. For one, it’s clearly an anomaly in the Midnights tracklist. It’s not moody or melancholic or even euphoric or self-effacing, as most of the songs on Midnights are. Instead, it’s ostentatious, ornate, sparkly; it sounds like what a diamond would sound like if you looked into a jeweler’s scope and saw a song in every cut. Because of this, “Bejeweled” also feels like a song that is completely unique and removed from her career catalog. If you made a Venn diagram of her songs and their attributes, “Bejeweled” would be a little iceberg floating far away from the interlocking circles. I’m not even sure what to compare it to. An Antoinette royal palace aesthetic blended with a vague tether to a Carly Rae Jepsen instrumentation maybe? It’s somehow bubbly and poppy, but also influenced by disco, but also not disco at all? Ultimately, while I don’t think the song is innovative, it is singular and a real flex from Taylor to explore a sort of indefinable genre. Also, apparently “Bejeweled” is not among Taylor’s singles for Midnights (yet), but it did receive a music video, at least. And all of its glittery glory is exactly what you’d expect from every second of the song itself.
12. “Snow on the Beach”
As someone who loves snow and finds minimal merits in the beach, I found “Snow on the Beach” to be one of my most anticipated songs from Midnights when she revealed the titles (perhaps second to “Vigilante Shit”). Coupling its promising and evocative title with a feature for Lana Del Rey, it felt like “No Body, No Crime” with Haim all over again. Like that Evermore collab, though, it was not my top favorite and was not the best use of the talents of the beloved artists who came to play on it. Lana Del Rey is so absent on the song that you might as well sort through music history and add “(feat. Lana Del Rey)” to titles. “Hey Jude (feat. Lana Del Rey),” “Viva La Vida (feat. Lana Del Rey,” “Ironic (feat. Lana Del Rey).” They’d all make just as much sense. Fortunately, the writerly elements of “Snow on the Beach” are what make the song a gem for me. “I searched aurora borealis green” is a wonderful bit of rolling internal rhyming, for example. “But your eyes are flying saucers from another planet / Now I’m All For You like Janet” is a creative metaphor that alludes to Janet Jackson, but I like to pretend it alludes to Interplanet Janet from Schoolhouse Rock! The most stellar moments, though, are in the chorus. There’s just something about that recurring hook — “Snow on the beach, weird but fucking beautiful” — that is addictive and a perfect blend of Taylor’s ability to be bluntly literal and metaphorically cheesy. I love it!
11. “Lavender Haze”
While many Taylor Swift songs grow on me exponentially over time (I loved “‘Tis the Damn Season” when I first heard it and now I worship at the alter of it; “Cowboy Like Me” is no longer an inaccessible Swift song for me), “Lavender Haze” might be one of the rare ones that actually slips a bit instead. I still love it! (It’s number eleven, after all.) But I actually am not sure I love it as much as the first time I heard it. Granted, I was riding high from the excitement about the tenth album dropping that midnight, but I also remember thinking it was the best Track One Taylor had ever crafted. Now, I’d probably rank “Fearless,” “State of Grace,” “The 1,” and “Willow” ahead of it. Still good, but just middle-of-the-pack for both her collection of lead songs and the tracks on Midnights. I do appreciate that it’s inspired by Mad Men and it does meet the sensory language in the sense that it feels hazy and appears as lavender to my synesthesia. There’s plenty to love! Her recurring “yeah, oh, yeah” throughout is as catchy as can be and “Meet me at midnight” is a pretty dynamite way to begin an album called Midnights. It almost feels like she’s taking our hand and guiding us to an atmospheric evening realm removed from the rest and the worst of the world for a bit, like Troy and Jeff finding the trampoline on Community.
10. “Mastermind”
“No one wanted to play with me as a little kid / So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since / To make them love me and make it seem effortless.” To me, this could be the central thesis for Taylor’s entire career. Whether it’s artistic development or savvy marketing or anything else that goes into building the career of the biggest musical act since The Beatles, she sees it as scheming. Scheming to have her potential fully realized when it never was on the playground. Scheming to love and be loved without feeling the effort. And even though she’s a genius, I’m not sure “effortless” is the adjective I’d use when she released enough vinyls to build a clock during this era. The beauty of Taylor is that there is effort and the effort manifests in masterful work. That’s evident throughout “Mastermind,” which continues from above with “This this the first time I’ve felt the need to confess.” Perhaps she knows her career has been effortful. Perhaps she’s finally arrived at the point in her security that she can be forthright about the flaws that keep her from being a flawless icon and — in doing so — arrives at the truest definition of a “mastermind.” Taylor is no longer masterminding a persona; she’s masterminding the life that makes her happy. And she’s not afraid to admit the planning that went into bringing that to fruition, even when it was pursuing her forever love with intent, rather than serendipity.
9. “The Great War”
So far, the only Aaron Dessner track we’ve talked about in this ranking is “High Infidelity.” I love the melodious craft that emanates whenever she collaborates with Dessner or Antonoff or both. Clearly, Midnights was mostly an Antonoff project, but Dessner is also undeniably in the inner circle, so she found a few spots for him to pop in on the 3am Edition. “The Great War” is the first of these. What might seem initially generic in title (or, to a flapper, triggering) is actually a richly detailed song with vocabulary that exists in the orbit of war motifs and imagery — all as an allegory for a relationship’s inflection point, of course. It’s like reading an NPR-penned Mad Libs about World War I. Whenever there’s a moment to provide more descriptive imagery that extends the song’s overall allusion basis, she takes it. Tombs, banners, battles, crimson, bloodshed, poison, triggers, poppies. The diction choice throughout awes me. That’s without even fawning over the gorgeous Dessner melodies he shared with Taylor. The two of them continue to bolster one another to unprecedented musical heights for both of their careers. It’s reminiscent of Lennon meeting McCartney or Nicks meeting Buckingham. The musical orchestration that seems to flow naturally through him and the twisting, biting lyrics that can make a Swift treatise so palpable. Ugh. It’s like Wolfgang Puck, Dave Chang, and Giada De Laurentiis blowing us kisses simultaneously.
8. “Paris”
How many different cities can one singer begin to associate with herself? London possesses a densely rich cultural history and yet, distinctly American person Taylor Swift comes to mind, due to “London Boy.” She made an impeccable pop transition away from her country roots (Nashville) with the first chords of “Welcome to New York.” And then here she comes with “Paris,” a city that will always be commonly tied to French culture, but is also kind of unavoidably connected to Taylor now, too. Not just because of the song, though. I don’t know if it’s the City of Lover special, but something about Taylor Swift just feels so right for Paris. A city of unabashed, nearly-cliché and mainstream levels of romance, but with just enough earnestness to elevate any and all love that arrives there? That sounds like Taylor Swift to me. Aside from her ability to evoke a city as if she’s always been as synonymous with it as Elvis was with Memphis and Flea is with Los Angeles, it’s also boppy and poppy with a specific section of the song that is irresistible when it comes to singing along. I am, of course, referring to, “Stumbled down pretend alleyways / Cheap wine, make believe it’s champagne / I was taken by the view / Like we were in Paris.” That’s her power. It’s about Paris and a makeshift Paris and an earworm all at once.
7. “Question…?”
Perhaps the song that is most obviously connected to Taylor’s previous eras (it begins with the “I remember” refrain from “Out of the Woods”), “Question…?” is probably the most underrated on the album, for me. I saw a lot of Swifties initially dismissing it because the ambiguity in the lyrics made it a bit inaccessible. As someone who gravitates first toward musicality and then the linguistic depth, I was a sucker for “Question…?” from the start. After my first listen of the album, it was even in my top three! It’s not that my opinion of it has declined, though. Rather, my opinions have simply improved for many other songs. From the start, I loved the rhythms on “Question…?” and I credit a lot of that to Antonoff’s production, which just gets more seasoned and more ruminative with each album. He remains one of the best things to ever happen to pop music and his ability to weave through the various corridors of the genre without ever losing the tethers to his own musical identity and those with whom he works is remarkable. I love his production on “Question…?,” which is just musing enough to match the energy brought about by Taylor in her contemplative rhetoric. The questions she asks in it are the ones yearning for human connection beneath all of the artifice that comes with a relationship built on optics and goodwill, rather than love and goodwill. No animosity here, but simply the wonder of “what could be” if “we could just be.” I don’t think it’s a coincidence that many of the songs harkened back to by “Question…?” (“Style,” “Out of the Woods,” maybe even a touch of “Dress”) are also thought to have Harry Styles as the subject. What if there wasn’t an external pressure placed on the relationship? Then, what would it be like to kiss someone in a crowded room? Maybe it’d be something closer to the joy she’s found on Folklore’s “Peace.” Happy for her.
6. “You’re on Your Own, Kid”
The only TikTok trend that originated faster than the bridge of “You’re on Your Own, Kid” was the irrefutable “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem, it’s me.” “You’re on Your Own Kid” has been so thoroughly analyzed and was so immediately understood what that bridge was about that it feels like there’s no possible angle to write here aside from saying that I obviously loved the song and how could you not? Much has been made of Taylor’s “track fives” and “You’re on Your Own, Kid” is worthy of possessing the baton right now. The perfect mixture of Taylor Swift pop and Jack Antonoff alt-rock, combined with a pulsing synth that builds and morphs to a glorious cavalcade of emotion by the end of its relatively short run-time, “You’re on Your Own, Kid” is one for the Swifties because you can tell it’s one that she feels in the truth of her soul, like “Long Live.” It wasn’t developed with the hopes of clicking into the TikTok algorithm or for resonating well with the charts. It was created solely because it was the story Taylor needed to tell about her career at this current juncture when she might actually believe for the first time that the hardest parts are over. Whatever led her here, that bridge needs to be mentioned one last time. How stunning and soaring! A coming-of-age story told across multiple metaphors and manifestations of the eras of her musical career and who she is, who she always has been, and who she wants to be? That happiness comes from within and can never depend on others, even if their support doesn’t make you literally on your own? It’s overwhelmingly alluring. My favorite part of it: “Everything you lose is a step you take,” but “I hosted parties and starved my body / Like I’d be saved by a perfect kiss” deserves aplomb, too.
5. “Hits Different”
I bet there are some more casual Swifties who aren’t even sure what this is. The Target CD exclusive track falls along the lines of “Wonderland” and “New Romantics,” both in the sense that it is a song initially exclusive to an in-store purchase and a total fucking bop. There has to be some sort of marketing logic behind this because I can’t imagine the benefit of keeping “Hits Different” on physical media instead of letting it storm across the radio airwaves. Are they just waiting for a summer hit? Taylor opened the 1989 tour with “New Romantics”! They haven’t learned since then? Oh, well. I don’t get it. I can’t even post a YouTube link here for the song because it doesn’t exist! There’s just a photo. That’s a lame disservice to a song that is so sunny and shimmering and splendid to listen to. “Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by.” That’s such a fun hook! The whole song is a hook! And Dessner is involved! The minute you’re able to hear this song, add it into all of your rotations.
4. “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve”
Obviously, I didn’t anticipate seven new songs would be dropped three hours after the entirety of Midnights came out and because of the nature of my job, the 3am Edition became more of a 3pm Edition for me. I was mostly vibing with the songs as I heard them for the first time in the middle of the afternoon, but “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” knocked me breathless the very first time I heard it. Usually, my favorite T-Swift songs take a bit to build in my mind and heart, but “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” hit me from the very beginning. The Dessner instrumentation is so choice and so perfect as it builds and builds and builds throughout tension and frantic soul-bearing, but just when you think the song has layered as much as it can, it goes another lyric further, another verse further. It’d be exhausting by the end of it if it wasn’t such an exhilarating journey. A lot of that credit should also be ascribed to Taylor’s masterful lyrical gymnastics throughout. I don’t even want to talk about the John Mayer of it all because the song’s unfortunate universality goes beyond any one man. I mean, come on. “And now that I’m grown, I’m scared of ghosts,” “Now that I know, I wish you’d left me wondering,” “God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be,” “I regret you all the time,” “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.” These are each all-timers for Taylor Swift’s lyric hall of fame.
3. “Karma”
There’s one part of “Karma” that is an absolute treat for the English-oriented brain of mine. Any English teacher will fawn over the deluge of riches for literary devices and figurative language to use in a lesson. The whole chorus is metaphor after metaphor! Karma is not like a cat, karma is a cat, purring in her lap ’cause she loves her. The whole chorus is a ton of fun. Lyrically, comparing karma to a boyfriend, a god, a breeze, a relaxing thought is such a silly takedown of the merry microcosms Taylor has defined her own sense of celebrity justice and vengeance over the years. All this talk about snakes, hatred, tabloids, one-dimensionality? Taylor is at such a confident, collected point in her life that she can look on the concept of karma that her Swifties have obsessed over, shrug, and say, “Karma is a cat.” Beyond the lyrics, though, “Karma” is also a ton of fun (and perhaps the most purely joyful song on the album) because of the matching musicality. This is the coolest silliness has ever looked because of the deft, seamless shifts between a pulsing verse and a jolly chorus of euphoria every time it comes back around. There are songs I love more from Taylor and obviously songs I love more on Midnights alone, but there might be no song I’m more excited to belt in a stadium on tour than “Karma.”
2. “Anti-Hero”
I hesitated to call “Karma” the most fun song on Midnights because there is a lot of entertainment to be found in the many layers of “Anti-Hero.” Ultimately, I decided “Karma” is more of the fun variety and “Anti-Hero” is more of the gloriously strange variety. “Anti-Hero” is the kind of song a genius musician and lyricist would write if she was surrounded by the energy of a group of third grade girls having a slumber party. Most of Taylor’s biggest hits and most prominent singles are pretty straightforward. “Shake It Off” is about ignoring the haters and being yourself. “I Knew You Were Trouble” is about the end of a relationship that was doomed from the start. They’re catchy, they’re accessible, there’s not really a story at play. Somewhere along the way in her career, she lost that thread that motivated her to rewrite William Shakespeare with the storybook “Love Story” single. But thanks to “Cardigan” (a lead single unafraid to rest in specificity) and “Willow” (perhaps another reflection of Shakespearean allusions, this time with Othello), the confidence seemed to return in full and “Anti-Hero” is among the most lyrically strange singles we’ve gotten in some time — from any artist. Whether that’s Jack’s doing or her doing, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe it’s both! Either way, their work on the lead single from Midnights is remarkable. Putting aside the instantly unforgettable and memeable hook (the chorus is such a joy and such a delight every time I hear it that I instantly knew I needed to go to bat for a single at a time when others may be looking for the deeper cuts; I mean, I want “Ivy” on the Eras Tour as much as anyone, but I won’t deny that “Anti-Hero” live will be transcendent) that is rooted in purely pleasureful music (not said in the same voice Harry Styles said “movie” for Don’t Worry Darling), let’s look at the words. “Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby / And I’m a monster on the hill / Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city / Pierced through the heart, but never killed.” “I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money / She thinks I left them in the will / The family gathers ‘round and reads it and then someone screams out / ‘She’s laughing up at us from hell.’” They’re not weird in a David Lynch way or a Tim Robinson way or a “that episode of All Grown Up when Tommy makes a short film about people sneezing” way. It’s just strange in a “we don’t usually hear these sorts of ruminations on the songs most in demand on Spotify.” And it’s not even the hoardes of Swifties driving it because this is her biggest single since maybe “Blank Space.” It helps that it is a perfectly constructed pop song, too.
1. “Maroon”
I begin listening to Christmas and holiday music on November 1 every year. Once midnight strikes on Halloween, I shift into festive mode like George Costanza eyeing a soup. No matter what happens during these two months, I’m always sure to listen to Christmas music every day through to January 6. For the past three years, this has meant folding a new Taylor Swift album into the rotation of musical listening. Yes, I’m still carving out time for “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” and “Feliz Navidad,” but I’m also making sure to play the new Evermore songs (2020), the (Taylor’s Version) of Red, but mostly the vaults (2021), and the entirety of Midnights (2022). They came out in December, November, and October, respectively, meaning they are a significant portion of the “Ber” Months and are inescapable during the holiday season typically reserved for Christmas music (not that I’d want to escape them; I welcome new Taylor music always). Over the course of these months, the Taylor music blends with the Christmas music and they kind of mix into one amorphous playlist of music to be listening to throughout November and December. As such, the songs have started to directly remind me of the Christmastime season whenever I hear them. The “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” basically has become a Christmas song for me. I had to force myself to listen to “‘Tis the Damn Season” in a non-Ber month. And it’s happened with Midnights: I hear this music and I’m transported like Anton Ego into the frame of mind I was in during the happiest time of year. This is truest about “Maroon.” The dreamy synth intro has become as evocative of the holidays as George Michael’s crooning. Throughout, though, the production continuously tops itself with massively appealing melodies, drum lines, reverbs. There is this mechanical droning effect towards the denouement of the song that should be annoying, but is deeply magnetic instead. It might be the album’s headiest song, but its atmospheric core elements are only half of what make it my favorite. The other half belongs to the sensational flow of the song. Taylor’s rhythm is perhaps never stronger than in “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that’s how,” but it’s instantly superseded by “The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me / And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was…” There is a danceable, singable, unattainable sense of coolness and awe emanating from every part of the song before we finally build to her isolated, “Maroon.” It is intensely masterful how someone who has not lived a normal life in seventeen years is still able to develop melodies, imagery, and art that can be as relevant to a nine-years-her-junior man from a different part of the country and an entirely different class. Many (Justin Timberlake, Jerry Seinfeld) risk alienation when they’re no longer able to reach the world that made them who they were and stripped them of their “everyday” attributes. Not Taylor. Her career has lasted longer than The Beatles now and is on pace for fifty times as many hits. Acclaim, adoration, volume. It’s all there and yet she never loses the ability to conjure a specific image from a memory so blurry that it might have never existed anyway. “And I chose you / The one I was dancin’ with / In New York, no shoes / Looked up at the sky and it was” is the kind of lyric that if you can feel yourself in it, you’ll be a Swiftie forever. Ten albums on and she’s still achieving that. All on top of the meta, continuity-based context that this can serve as the thesis of the Midnights mission in that it’s a mature take on one of her classic hits of yore from over a decade ago: “Red.” We already know that love is golden to her, rather than burning red. But maybe love doesn’t have to abandon the red. Maybe it matures to maroon. Maybe the love never goes away. It just becomes new ideas, new artistry, new music and lyrics. It fuels perpetual career-topping and career-spanning achievements. That’s a real fucking legacy to leave.
Writing this while The Eras Tour debuted was a mistake. I need the summer now. Godspeed to us all.
See also:
Ranking Every Song on Taylor Swift’s Evermore
Ranking Every Song on Taylor Swift’s Folklore
Ranking Every Song from Lover by Taylor Swift
Ranking the Vault Songs from Red (Taylor’s Version)
