Why I Love Taylor Swift

Last week at work I was daintily pitting avocados or slicing ham or something of that nature and engaging in harmless banter with a co-worker when suddenly he said something that changed, well, everything. The co-worker in question, a 21-year-old banjo-playing, philosophy-studying, Big Thief-loving folk boy, remarked that he thought Taylor Swift's music was shallow. He cited her preoccupation with writing about romantic relationships, her “corny” lyrics, her position squarely within the pop genre. To give some insight into how these critiques might have made me feel, Taylor Swift has been the most beloved, most important musician in my life since I heard Fearless for the first time in fourth grade. From that sacred first listen on my iPod Nano all those years ago, her music has carried me across the surface of life's every peak and crest. I've come to understand my life through the prism of her work, and in that way she's been integral to shaping the woman I am today. So you can imagine my disappointment, my horror, when this dude tossed out adjectives like “shallow” and “corny.” Like, ok cool, you fundamentally don't understand me and you think the art I care about is cheap and petty. Love. That. 4. Me. And yet all I could manage as a defense was some watery nothing about how she puts a lot of humor into her songwriting and he should really give folklore a shot. Girl, what?? So I'm using this essay to set the record straight, to explain why Taylor's work isn't the least bit shallow and she's actually an artistic virtuoso who means a lot to me for good reason, not just by chance. In part, what motivates me to formulate this piece is that I'm stubborn to a fault and he came for my girl. I can't give up that easily. The bigger reason, however, is to articulate to myself why I think T Swift  is so brilliant. I've never had to do that before. My communion with her music has always been such a private ritual that a structured articulation of my feels hasn't been necessary. But these days I'm becoming increasingly wary of holding beliefs that I can't back up with concrete arguments. That's no way to enter the adult world, especially as someone who holds a literal degree in thinking about art. So why not start with Taylor💜

The reason she is so special to me, and I believe to our culture at large, is that Taylor Swift is a huge nerd. She’s nerdy in every sense of the word: enthusiastic, uncool, obsessive. These facets of her nerdiness converge most clearly in the newest edition to the Taylor empire: the Eras Tour, making it the perfect focal point for this piece. Commencing in March of 2023, the tour showcases a three hour super-mega-concert spanning the artist’s immense catalog. Each album constitutes its own “era” with a unique aesthetic down to the color-coordinated microphones. Though I haven’t been to a live show for fear of suffering a breakdown and derailing my plans to attend grad school next fall, I did see the Eras Tour film with my mom at our local cinema. The movie documents a show at LA’s SoFi stadium from start to finish with only a few movie magic transitions. What I witnessed during the film was Taylor in a state of peak nerdiness. Every aspect of the performance was intended to bring her catalog’s stories to life in a way that was utterly whimsical, earnest, and over the top. For instance, during a rendition of dreamy hit “Lavender Haze,” half a dozen giant fluffy clouds atop purple ladders were wheeled out on stage while Taylor strutted around in a bedazzled T-shirt dress. During the folklore era, T Swift emerged in a cerulean cloak and orange gown reminiscent of something an enchanted peasant girl might wear. Her dancers swirled around her with matching robes, each carrying a large iridescent orb. The theatricality of these vignettes makes me think of something a theater kid might dream up they were offered unlimited money and talent. A theater kid like…me, for example. That’s part of the magic of Taylor. Her unabashed obsession with her fantasy life invites kids and adults to join in the fun. Her earnestness creates the space for people to let their guard down and be earnest themselves. In a society that is becoming more irony-pilled with every new TikTok trend and political scandal, this child-like performance feels like a breath of fresh air. 

That leads me to the next facet of Taylor that I think is so remarkable. For all her songs about boys and relationships, Taylor Swift is not very sexy. Yes, she is a conventionally attractive white woman who wears makeup and has shiny blonde hair. Given society’s preoccupation with female beauty, there’s no doubt that this reality has been a significant factor in her career’s success. However, while singers with comparable careers like Beyonce or Ariana Grande make their sexuality a central component of their artistic persona, Taylor’s image is much more girl next door, even tomboy. Lines like “Only bought this dress so you could take it off” or “His hand around a cold glass makes me want to know that body like it’s mine” are about as erotic as a Swifty song will get. You’ll never find Taylor hiding the number 69 in a track title (see Grande’s 2020 album Positions). The same can be said of her stage presence. Even when her choreography does get a little flirty in the Eras Tour, I can’t help but think of Olive’s famous pageant dance at the end of Little Miss Sunshine, with her knee pads, her gold sneakers, and naive enthusiasm that’s such a hallmark of childhood. There’s that same campiness to Taylor’s performance of “sexy woman.” Every exaggerated hip pop in “Vigilante Shit” for example feels like a wink to the audience. The spectacle is just too tongue-in-cheek to be believed wholesale. Even her sequined body suits are more theater costume than visual flirtation. Obviously I’m not arguing that Taylor is a better artist -or woman- than Beyonce or Grande because her work isn’t as erotic. Both are completely legitimate personas and the right Queen B song can really get you feeling yourself on a night out. But I do think that Taylor’s lack of overtly erotic content in her music and performances creates a space for listeners, especially women, to be a more uninhibited version of themselves. There’s room to be silly, dramatic, excited, or emotional in a way that seems truer to how most people actually are. Plus, any instance where a woman hasn’t had to use her sexuality as the chief marketing tool for her art gives me the tiniest bit of hope for the future.

The original Taylor

Now with that said, Taylor certainly encourages listeners to get in touch with their inner romantic. When it comes to boys, Taylor Swift has no chill. That girlie is boy crazy. It’s one of the chief critiques raised by my co-worker: she’s got too many corny songs about romantic relationships. First of all, I’d like to gently remind him that someone else who wrote extensively about romance is William Shakespeare. But he’s got a point. Ninety-nine percent of Taylor’s songs are about boys. There’s not a single album that passes the Bechdel test. However, I’d argue that most people’s minds don’t either. Mine certainly doesn’t. Try as I might to posture that friendship, my dog, and a strong sense of community are all that I need, I’m lying through my teeth. I’ve always felt pretty embarrassed about this aspect of my personality — the part that wants to be loved, I guess??? In this modern age, I feel like there’s an ambient expectation that women should be above desiring men because we’re simply too self-sufficient, educated, and cool for that. Men are so ugh! Who wants them? Taylor does. And she’s not embarrassed about it. No one would release a 10 minute ballad about a 3 month relationship that transpired years ago if they were. You have to have a lot of courage to do something that lame. Like, girl, shouldn’t you be over this by now? I’m glad she’s not though because all those break-up songs, with their drama and their poetry, have helped me process my own brushes with heartbreak. Equally, I’m grateful to Taylor for all her bubbly pop tracks like “Everything Has Changed’ or “Hey Stephen,” which perfectly encapsulate the birth of a crush or the walk home after a first kiss. Those feelings, those moments, are cheesy and they’re also some of the sweetest miracles life has to offer. If you ask me, giddy pop feels like the only way to capture them. All the shots of fans’ damp faces and joyful cries in the Eras film reminded me that I’m not alone in this sentiment. While her larger-than-life performances invite viewers into a whimsical fantasy, Taylor’s love songs allow listeners to indulge in every shred of hope, excitement, dismay, and flirtiness without embarrassment. That feels like more than shallow pop to me. 

As I’ve described, Taylor’s ability to craft a holding space for listeners’ emotional highs and lows is a huge part of why I’ve had her albums on repeat since 2010. It’s a skill I dream of harnessing in my own creative endeavors. However, alone, I don’t think it would be enough to make me the Swifty that I am. You can hit people in their feels, get them belting out your lyrics on the morning commute, and still be a mediocre artist. That’s why the final aspect of Taylor’s nerdiness, and the reason I’m such a fan, is her obsessive pursuit of artistic excellence. For example, her songwriting has grown light-years since her first two LPs dropped back in the early 2010s. Of course Taylor Swift and Speak Now both feature gems like “Tim McGraw” and “Dear John,” but many other tracks feel two-dimensional. “Teardrops on My Guitar” and “Superman,” might be two of my biggest guilty pleasure listens, but they are little more than declarations of unrequited love for unfeeling bros. Over the course of her 17-year career, however, Taylor’s writing has grown up alongside her. She’s experimented with different genres, blending sonic elements of country, pop, and folk across her long list of projects. She’s spun tales from a myriad of speakers, including friends, loved ones, and strangers. On folklore, she went one step further and introduced a host of intertwining characters whose relationships unfold across the album. The emotional depth of her work has evolved over time as well, adding more nuanced, often bittersweet layers to her repertoire of love songs. Take “peace,” one of the final tracks on folklore, for instance. Taylor’s voice shows up raw and exposed, save for a whisper of guitar moving the melody forward. She contends with the impact of fame on an intimate relationship. Beseechingly, she asks her lover: “Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”. Watching the Eras movie, it struck me how Taylor has never abandoned any of these artistic touchpoints in her career, no matter how cringey. Instead she’s created a show that embraces the cheesiness of Speak Now, the melodrama of Reputation , the electrifying pop of 1989 with pride, even arrogance. She protects the versions of herself that produced these works while she continues to out do them. The final result is a super-narrative about Taylor Swift the artist, and the history she’s shared with her fans for almost two decades. It’s a display of pure ego, the product of unwavering dedication to one's artistic vision. In every guitar strum, arched eyebrow, and costume change, I see an artist who is completely unashamed of the spotlight she’s built for herself. Taylor Swift has crafted an homage to her own mythology and she’s basking in its greatness. On some level, the admiration I hold for this degree of artistic obsession and ego scares me. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman, and creative ambition is a trait far more palatable, downright sexy really, when it’s exhibited by a man. Or maybe it’s the common side effects of creative ambition like selfishness that I’m afraid of. What if I went full Taylor-mode and became a narcissist who pushes my loved ones away in a hungry quest for greatness? What’s a bit of art worth if you’re a worse person for making it? A large part of me believes that our society’s veneration of cruel geniuses is lazy. Surely we should strive for a third option where artistic endeavors are built from a foundation of love for one’s neighbor, rather than from its absence. I’d be surprised if Taylor is one such artist. I fear that her fame and billionaire status may have swallowed her heart whole by now. Nonetheless, her ruthless climb towards new creative heights continues to inspire me.  

So there you have it. All the reasons I love Taylor Swift. The big ones anyway. Please don’t take this as an attempt at converting non-Swifties to the cause. I’m sure I haven’t converted my co-worker. But that’s not really the point. It sounds corny, but I’d much rather everyone have their own Taylor Swift than be a Swifty. Meaning, everyone should have those artists who make them feel unalone, who inspire them to shrug off their inhibitions, commune with each other, and be unfettered in their joy, their sorrow, their hope. I know my co-worker has these artists. They might write more songs about moss and baby birds than I care for but the feeling is essentially the same. Taylor just happens to be that artist for me. There’s something about her cocktail of goofy theater, sincerity, and glittery pop that resonates with the parts of me that feel the most true. Her nerdiness has helped me accept the same earnest enthusiasm and ambition I recognize in myself. I guess in a way this has really been a piece about how the queen of pop taught a girl with a theater kid heart that it’s ok to be yourself. Now that is pretty corny 💫