Taylor Swift’s rise to international superstardom has always been an incredible balancing act, from walking the tight line of genre definitions and expectations to challenging what were believed to be tried and true formulas for musical success.
In an era of big-booty obsession, Swift takes risks in this album by introducing sounds reminiscent of a John Hughes production – that is, if Pretty In Pink were somehow brought through the decades. It’s a far leap forward from her last album, Red, and the final step in completing Swift’s metamorphosis into a full-fledged pop artist. Gone are the banjos, acoustic guitars, and piano ballads. 1989 is a sonically cohesive masterpiece that manages to be mature, dark, playful, suggestive, and magnanimous, all while staying true to the lyrical ingenuity that we have grown to expect from Swift.
One of the best songs on the record is “Blank Space,” in which Swift is self aware, clever, and undeniably funny all at once. Swift presents us with an upbeat and light-hearted take on the public’s perception of her personal life; “got a long list of ex-lovers / they’ll tell you I’m insane” she coos, before chanting, “you know I love the players / and you love the game.” It pairs well with her first single from the album, “Shake It Off,” the catchy summer tune that is complete with sharp hooks and saxophone backdrops.
Swift is apprehensive and flirty in the suggestively titled song “Style,” uttering “you’ve got that long hair slicked back white T-shirt / I’ve got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt” before hitting the gas on her vocals and exclaiming “take me home.” 1989 also reaches darker depths with “I Know Places,” a powerful masterpiece that feature’s Swift’s best vocal performances on the album — she manages to seamlessly transition between the highs and lows, all while making grandiose declarations about a love that survives: “They are the hunters / We are the foxes / And we run!”
The album opens with “Welcome to New York,” a song more optimistic and than any of her other opening tracks. No doubt inspired by her own move to TriBeCa, Swift attempts to capture the complexity and complication of The Big Apple in what is unfortunately an oversimplification annotated with underwhelming and predictable rhyming schemes: “when we first dropped our bags on apartment floors / took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer.” Despite its lack of edge, it is not unsubstantial, as she subtly touches on LGBT rights (“you can want who you want / boys and boys and girls and girls”), the song also marks her growth as an individual. Swift has gone from dreaming of “someday living in a big old city” to living in New York and living her dream: “the lights are so bright / but they never blind me.”
But 1989 is not restricted to upbeat tempos. In the sultry tune “Wildest Dream,” Swift extends herself to the far edges of pop, venturing into a territory previously only occupied by Lana Del Rey with what is perhaps the most surprising and best track on the album. The lyrics are suggestive, yet far from explicit — “I said no one has to know what we do / His hands are in my hair / His clothes are in my room” — and effortlessly produces a motif that is visually and sonically fantastical. “Say you’ll remember me / Standing in a nice dress / Staring at the sunset, babe,” she pleads breath-ily.
“Clean” is arguably the most lyrically mature song on the record; co-written with British singer-songwriter Imogen Heap, it features a juxtaposition of light background instrumentals with the heavier subject of addiction: “the water filled my lungs / I screamed so loud / but no one heard a thing.”
1989 is a masterpiece that validates Swift’s role as the reigning queen of pop that she was always destined to be. There is no denying Swift has matured her sound, but it’s a natural progression that feels fluid, organic, and natural. She stated in a Wall Street Journal op-ed several months ago that her secret to success is to surprise, not shock. 1989 is full of surprises, twists, and turns, but they are pleasant, welcoming, and shine with a reminiscence of the same curly haired, guitar toting girl from Pennsylvania in cowboy boots and glittery dresses that gave us Tim McGraw and “Our Song.”
Rather than attempting to rebrand herself, she has taken all the best parts of her past four albums and manipulated them into something fresh yet still familiar Taylor has always taken risks, playing her own cards in a rigged industry full of trite clichés and formulaic melodies, and 1989 proves this to be a formula for success. Somehow, once again, she’s managed to beat them at their own game.
See the complete review at my blog.
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