An Open Letter to the Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department
Then, a journey through all 31 tracks from this brilliant, emotional excavation of an album that turned into something else entirely. I'm sure the NYT will think I, too, need an editor. But f*ck it.
Oh, and she’s taking Friday off.
To: Taylor Swift, Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department1
From: A redhead named Abigail (Elder Fangirl Edition)
Re: The Anthology
O Chairman, My Chairman2!
I love you. It’s ruining my life. (utterly complimentary)
JK. You’re not. You never could.
Even though I think that with this album you’ve compelled me to get more personal on the internet than I ever have before…which is, in itself, fraught for me—a Scorpio who is very good at making people think they know a LOT about me, without actually letting very many into the inner sanctum. I hold my own secrets as tightly as I hold those of others in my life who have trusted me with theirs.
But when it comes to using your art to express and heal yourself in a way that might not be easy, but is actually necessary? Well, there are few people I’d rather model myself after more. Boy, did you let us IN IN with this one. Like a modern Muse, your work (and work ethic) inspires me to push past my own self-imposed creative boundaries.
There I go diving in immediately. This is also the Scorpio in me. The one who wants to get deep, STAT, and then talk until the wee hours. There’s gotta be Scorpio in your chart and I would truly love to know your entire astrological map because it must be fascinating. If you ever feel like sharing. As mentioned above, the great news is— because of what my natal chart looks like—your secrets would be totally safe.
Apparently, all my stars and signs aligned me to urge me to write a letter for this post (or part of it anyway) and so that’s how this one’s gonna go, with some poetic license taken—and a dash3 of the diaristic. Of course. That’s the Swiftian way and that style just one of the reasons you’re among my favorite writers ever.
Plus, I love going longgggggggg. I, too, have never learned to shut the fuck up. So you just talk your talk and I’ll do the same.
If somebody doesn’t want it, they can move along. It’s crazy how many people don’t understand that concept, in general, but certainly when it comes to your work.
And honestly that’s also how I do what I end up thinking is my best stuff—while simultaneously wondering who allowed me to write anything ever. The sweet torture of being this profession never ends, as you well know.
Some reading this memo will remember that below is the card I pulled when I asked my magical new tarot deck if TTPD was going to significantly change my life—spiritually, professionally, emotionally, or otherwise.
It sure does feel like one of my lessons from witnessing what you’ve done with this massive album is re-focusing on “creativity for creativity’s sake” and “indulging a curious heart that will take you on a spiritual exploration.”
Noted, Chairman. Noted.
Things get a little more insane when revisiting the three-card pull I did to represent Before, During, and After listening to your new (double) album.
The During has rattled me (in a great way) knowing now the type of man and the kinds of feelings TTPD explores. Yeah, I had one of those, too, and my life has never been the same either. I’ve often felt embarrassed by how much something that happened so long ago still has influence on my current behaviors and emotional patterns, but this album is helping me process that in new ways.
Um….
“Has an alluring person or situation reeled you in thoroughly and completely? Has your obsession caused you to lose sight of boundaries and perhaps even your own identity? Ah, the tricky Devil promises so much but often leaves you drained on the empty hope that satisfaction lies just around the bend. The Devil’s lair is laden with delights that will momentarily thrill but offer no lasting sustainment…the appearance of this Capricorn-based card should prompt you to clear your heart and head and dig deep to find true nourishment. It’s fear that keeps us grasping at empty desires. Have faith that there is a deep well of love in every heart and it is accessed by going quietly inward…”
So, yeah. That happened.
Then the After, which is part of what has lead us to today’s tome.
“You are pure potential. The Fool asks you to draw upon the spirit of youth, innocence, and wonder. This card is about starting anew and, once again, marching to the gentle beat of your heart’s desire no matter where you are in your life journey…Throw caution to the wind! Take a bold leap and have faith that you will be caught by the loving hands of the Universe. The world may call you foolish, but it takes courage to commit to the path of full soul embodiment.”
Before we get to all that, though, I wondered if you had any advice for someone about to newly (re)enter their Academia Era. You know, since you are a Department Chair and all. Because this girl is heading back to campus in the fall.
I haven’t told many people this yet, but I’m officially going to be teaching an upper-level class in the Media School at Indiana University in the fall.
One that I get to develop and create all on my own. The syllabus is my track list, if you will. It’s called “Storytelling, Pop Culture, and Media” and it’s already full, which sorta blows my mind. My first “sellout” crowd 😏4
Here’s a bit of the gist in more formal speak:
This course is designed to provide students with a strong foundation for discovering and honing their own voices in the modern (and ever-changing) media landscape. Students will be introduced to the recent history of mediums that are no longer as prominent—like print media—and their importance in shaping popular culture, while also investigating and critiquing newer platforms and less traditional subjects and methods of storytelling and expression. Students will explore content creation through a number of lenses and influences, while examining what “success” looks like in the modern landscape and how one can create an adaptable skillset to weather future industry shifts.
We haven’t had the album pressed yet—to keep that metaphor going—but we are going to cover topics in a way that I hope feels fresh and fun to students, while also staying grounded in my own IRL media/content experience, and that of lots of fun guest speakers I plan to invite in to share their wisdom.
I want the curriculum to be truly useful for the youngs in my class so they can better find their paths in the mess of the media and content worlds…in a way that feels true to themselves and their unique voices, but built on a strong foundation that won’t be easily threatened by the zigs and zags of algorithms and platforms and social media whims.
Here are just a few of the topics I plan to explore over the course of the semester:
Turning your personal passions into a platform
Adapting your voice for different mediums (while staying true to who you are and what you want to create)
How internet fandoms have and do directly influence mainstream media culture and coverage and voice
Why we must take the “unserious” seriously
What fan fiction can teach us about content and community ,
Pop culture as a way to get personal (and deep)
Lessons from print media we shouldn’t let die
How Jane Magazine was a blueprint for much internet culture
…and my fave MEDIA LITERACY and Gen Z
(You are VERY welcome to join class any time, natch. Have you been to Bloomington in the fall? Before or after your Indy shows would be a beautiful time of year for a visit. I also know some local Swifties of varying ages who would love to show you around IU. Just saying.)
I’m beyond excited and also terrified. I think that’s a great headspace to occupy, don’t you agree? I’d love your notes.
But it’s time to really drill down on your latest dissertation, The Tortured Poets Department.
Ma’am, first let me just say that you are wild for this one and I am so grateful. It’s more than I could have ever expected—and not just because you dropped 16 tracks at midnight and then said, “OH HERE ARE 15 MORE” at 2 am.
Obvs, that totals 31, a reverse 13. But also, my own birthday number, as an October 31 baby. I was in such a state that night that it took me a minute to realize we’d landed on 31. But, of course we did. I bet there’s still a vault filled with amazing tracks, too, though.
I knew we weren’t done with the 2s last week, but I really hadn’t gone so far down Clownelia Street (for once!) that I really thought we would get a double album.
Exhibit A from Thursday’s pre-release post:
Silly, Abby.
Checkmate, Tay couldn’t lose.
We really are so blessed by your indefatigable work ethic and the gifts bestowed upon us. Like, beyond. But we also lost our damn minds, as you know we are wont to do.
Left to my own devices. Definitely in crisis. This was me. Hi.
As you can see, I wasn’t alone. Thank you for never giving us peace. Truly. Musical abundance, we know her all too well.
I’ve referenced the TikTok below in the past, but it’s worth a rewatch in the post-double album world. Nikki is so good at this. See what you’ve made us do, Blondie.
(Being a Swiftie is so fun. We wouldn’t change a thing.)
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Sidebar: This YT short you dropped was such classic, old school TAS behavior with little glimpses into your actual life. I, however, need way more training/fitness and post-show body work logistics, please and thank you.
Seriously though. You’re a lunatic. (It takes one to know one.) I basically didn’t sleep all night, but like you, I maintained my dedication to a workout and made it to Pilates.
Not all heroes wear capes.
I had barely begun to process what was coming at us from the original 16 songs when that back half came in like a motherfucking wrecking ball to my heart and soul. Listening to you crack yourself open, in turn, cracked me wide open.
Basically, immediately.
Respectfully, again, I say MA’AM.
“Once we have spoken our saddest story, we can be free of it.”
We have to dig it up, examine it, purge it, and then move along. For ourselves alone. But if others can take something from it, all the better.
It’s called The Tortured Poets Department, so I’ve been (duh) saying this one’s for the English majors since Grammy night.
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But it’s even more specific than that, in who it might hit the hardest. In my opinion, anyway.
Over these many years, I’ve seen so many of my own traits (both wonderful and difficult and everything in between) reflected back to me in your songwriting.
This anthology might just encompass them all in one place, in such a way that it feels curated to my own life experience. Well, more than usual, I should say. That’s one of your superpowers, using that mind to weave together your own experiences and feelings with the magic of your pen and limitless imagination in a way that feels like you ripped verses right out of our own lives—but made it sound way better.
To me, from the first listen, I thought…this is for her. Once the second album dropped, I fully believed that to be true.
But secondarily, I felt…this album isn’t going to be for everyone. I love that.
This is for the real heads, the romanticize it in our head heads, the “it’s messier inside this head than anyone would ever guess based on my outward appearance and demeanor” heads, the English majors who miss when their days were spent taking in and analyzing thousands of words with other people who wanted to do the same, the people who’ve seen and done and felt some real shit (high highs and low lows) in this life, the critical thinkers, the over-thinkers, the eldest daughter good girls who can fix anything (allegedly), but are also simmering with Big Feelings just beneath the surface at all times, the ones who have never really let go of anything, the book nerds, the precocious children who maybe didn’t grow up all the way, the people who romanticize everything inside their heads as a form of self-protection, the “don’t you tell me what to do, but I also deeply crave validation” crowd, the “no, but seriously it’s as simple as SEEING me” girlies, the ones who replay scenes and moments on loops in their heads for years, who hyperfixate on everything from feelings to people to songs to colors, the “no, no I’m fine” “I’ll just do it” “Don’t worry about me”s…
I could go on and on.
I don’t think it’s too long, though that’s not an unfair critique if addressed in a real, thoughtful way and not just “blah it’s long”. But it also feels gross to me to tell an artist how much of something you’ve decided they’re allowed to put out.
That is not to say any work is above criticism. There’s just so much out there about this album that is straight-up lazy.
From people who don’t know enough about your catalogue or career, but have a fuck ton to say about TTPD while also adding, “I don’t really listen to much of her music.” Again, all are entitled to their own opinions, but my god at least SAY something. Have a POV. Or try to find some context. The internet and Google exist, after all.
I don’t expect everyone to have the same level of knowledge as a diehard OG Swiftie, but my god, we used to be a proper country, you know? OPEN THE SCHOOLS.
I won’t bore you with my rant about how the broken media business model has impacted culture in ways people don’t think about often enough, but lmk if you ever want this Ted Talk. I will say that one way that matters in this scenario is the dying off of well thought-out/written, intelligent cultural criticism. By professionals.
Digital media’s myriad (unsuccessful) pivots have left many great minds and writers without the proper space and time and compensation to write the kinds of pieces that can offer both critique and insight. What the internet typically rewards is…not that. For people writing/creating on their own socials to those writing for professional publications. True music critics serve a place in culture and there aren’t enough of them anymore. I love reading a brilliant, meaty piece even if I disagree with it. Sometimes that makes me love it even more.
Plus, we’ve now got outlets of all genres screaming about over-saturation when they’re the ones that made much of that happen in the first place with their breathless coverage of things that didn’t warrant breathless coverage. But got clicks and engagement. There’s that broken media model rearing its ugly head again.
Let’s just say that if the NYT wants to say you need an editor and maybe shouldn’t have released this much music, they should probably use their own to make sure they get the album title correct.
Now, it’s also insane that certain corners of our fandom act absolutely bonkers if someone doesn’t like something and respond in ways that are just dumb and embarrassing and unhelpful and destructive. Attacking and threatening people for not liking a subjective piece of art or an artist you love is unacceptable. Full stop.
This is not the kind of unhinged behavior we approve of at WHN, just so you know. We’re more like, write 13 million words about an album while telling part of our life story unhinged types.
But it is equally unfair to assume that anyone defending this album doesn’t have valid opinions and reasons either. Or that those loud corners of, frankly, any fandom define the whole of it. The assumption that we are all just dumb, silly little things who follow you blindly with nothing to add to the conversation is patently untrue and unfair. Or, ahem, that other major artists (many of whom I LOVE) aren’t also capitalists. Remember, that we all have the choice to buy or not buy merch and variants and whatnot.
I know you’re one of the biggest stars in the world right now and don’t need me to defend you. I will say, though, it’s maddening for someone with my personality to read things that are just factually incorrect while dissing you and NOT say something. Where are THOSE editors?
Again, I don’t say any of this because you’re a victim—but certainly, in part, because “hating Taylor Swift” as a personality type is something us OG Swifties know all too well. All sorts of people and brands and platforms love to co-opt the fandom for their own gain when it serves them, though.
Listen, I’m a petty Scorpio and more than once I’ve wished I could pull up what people who currently superficially swoon over you were writing on their socials in 2016…but that’s not happening and I (mostly) gave up fighting with people on the internet years ago.
It’s a wild thing to make hating someone a core pillar of one’s personality, but it’s real. Like you, I’d much rather be defined by the things that I love5.
And, yeah, I take certain things people say about your music and the people who listen to it real fucking personally. Not all things, but some.
Many, many in my life aren’t fans. That’s FINE. I love them all the same!!!!!! Liking you is not a prerequisite to being my friend. That would be absurd. Though I’ve made many great ones through this fandom and others I belong to and I’m forever grateful for that.
But if someone’s a giant dick and then surprised if I sorta pop off…well, that’s on them. “My words shoot to kill when I’m mad” and all that.
But back to the length of TTPD.
You’ve talked often in recent years about how compelled you feel to create right now and that the more you make, the happier you are. I so get that on a cellular level because I’m starting to feel like I’m entering that era myself.
I think about this part of your 2022 conversation with Martin McDonagh for Variety a lot, but particularly over the past few days.
“I definitely feel more free to create now. And I’m making more albums at a more rapid pace than I ever did before, because I think the more art you create, hopefully the less pressure you put on yourself. It’s just a phase I’m in right now. And everybody’s different. There are people who put an album out every five years and it’s brilliant and that’s the way they work. And I have full respect for that. But I’m happier when I’m making things more often.”
You are in a position (that you earned!!!!!) to be able to put what work and how much of it you choose into the world. Believe me, plenty of us are BEYOND thrilled with how prolific and generous you are with the outputs of said creative process.
I think that’s part of the point of this album. It’s purposeful in its lack of editing and traditional “polish”.
It’s an emotional excavation and purge.
I sure know about those, and not wanting, or perhaps being incapable, of paring yourself down because it all feels necessary and important. To you. The artist. Sometimes that’s all that matters.
And feeling all those feelings bouncing around inside your brain and body IS exhausting—and non-linear. It’s grief6 and we are watching it play out in all its various forms.
I’d say thematically TTPD very much IS tight…in its intentional, but also inevitable, mess. It is not culled and curated in the way that some people think it should be, but to me that’s part of the point. That’s life. That’s going through what you’re talking about going through on this album. It’s a choice. As if you (or Jack or Aaron) don’t know how to make a super tight (by industry definitions) record.
Meanwhile, I wasn’t looking for, or expecting, a sonic reinvention. I guess some people were, which fine. But since when does every album an artist makes have to be a whole NEW vibe or sound?
There does feel like an evolution and progression from Folklore to Evermore to Midnights to TTPD. I’d actually slot the 1989 (TV) Vault in there, too. All of these works are of a kind and a time (recording-wise with the vault tracks, not regarding when they were originally written) and I’m not sure why so many people think they know best when you should move on from that moment. I feel like your track record proves otherwise. I trust you and your instincts.
(Of course it’s okay for someone to say they were hoping for something different. But the creative directives are really flinging around with a lot of vitriol currently. Nothing can get a certain kind of person BIG MAD like your name. That never changes.)
I actually hear pieces of every single album you’ve ever made in this one, some more subtle than others. To me, that also is part of the fabric of TTPD.
Our past is always sprinkled into our present, but when you’re doing that emotional excavation, some of it comes closer to the surface once more. I feel that here and I’m sure so much has come up emotionally and musically as you’ve re-recorded your masters, which apparently the haters are also mad about again? Anew? It’s hard to keep up.
TTPD (Abby’s Version) Voice Note #1
The past is also there in the subject matter, as (to my mind) you realized you’re not as fucking over something as you thought you were. That is a natural part of doing work on yourself. Like, oops, guess I’m still mad/sad/whatever about this thing that maybe I should have moved on from, but I haven’t.
Being rich and famous and beautiful doesn’t stop one from being human and getting hurt. People would do well to remember that. Not just about you. And also that there are absolutely unique things that happen to someone as famous as you (and others!) and you’re allowed to have feelings about it all…and share those via song or any other method you choose. Or not!
You put out the art you wanted to, in the manner in which you chose. You’ve earned that power in a shitty ass industry. To act like you’ve done the world—or yourself—some disservice by putting your creation out is bananas to me, no matter what one’s opinion of the work is.
It feels, to me, like you give less of a fuck what the people who don’t like it think. Just a lil tiny itty bitty bit. Because I’m not sure you would have put this out otherwise—and we’ll talk lyrics of certain songs that address this topic later.
I think we might be alike in that it’s impossible for us not to care AT ALL, but with time and perspective, certain critiques can start to carry less weight. Especially if you’re sure of what you’ve put out7.
But grade whores are always going to grade whore and there’s nothing wrong with liking good reviews and validation and awards and records. There’s just not. And it’s okay to try for them, too. You certainly aren’t the only artist who does. I get that deeply. I, too, am quite the mix of “fuck ‘em” but also “did I do good?”
I saw you resharing some of the better reviews from big outlets and I say, GREAT. People are going to be pissed at whatever you do anyway. That’s big valedictorian energy to me and I know some people find it obnoxious. I went to Duke. Everyone hates us. I understand (on a minuscule scale) the feelings that might reverberate back to you about stuff like that.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But new thoughts, some that are welcomingly intrusive, also start to appear, like:
Do you think I’m too much? Cool, find someone else.
You don’t get to tell me about sad.
You have no idea what’s really going on.
Fuck you, wine moms.
It’s giving a scream it from the rooftops version of the “Sorry was I loud?” clip I love so much.
This speech you gave on stage makes even more sense to me now (and it meant a lot then):
You made The Tortured Poets Department for you—and then for the ones who would understand. Those ones who understand needed it more than they even knew. Some of them (maybe ones named Abby from We Have Notes) have been tortured for more years than they’d care to admit, by many of the things you wrote about on this album.
We see you and feel seen in return. If you can be that vulnerable, maybe we can too. There’s beauty in the breakdown, right? At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. So maybe this entire opus of a post will only be for me. But maybe someone else will relate or feel seen in it, too.
Or people can keep on moving—which is just fine by me.
So, dearest Chairman, before I dive into the music more granularly, I say a full-throated thank you for this work. It’s already helping me and many others more than you know.
Yours in love, poetry, admiration, and inspiration. Always.
Sincerely,
Abby Gardner
Bachelor of Arts, English, Duke University
Writer, Scorpio (Libra Moon, Cancer Rising), Eldest Daughter, Romanticizer, Gen X Swiftie since Debut, Big Feelings Haver Since Birth
Not-So-Surprise Second Drop: The Music of The Tortured Poets Department
Okay, if you’re still here…let’s get into the music for real real.
Thank you to all who have been asking for this post—as mentioned above, I do crave validation, so even knowing a handful of people are anxiously awaiting my notes means more than I can say.
Now, of course we’re going to get into some of the inspiration behind these songs. Personal lore is fun. but it’s not what makes the music important, impactful, or everlasting to me.
That’s true when I’m talking about music from Taylor, from Stevie, from Joni, from Harry, from any of my beloveds. “Silver Springs” hits hard even if you don’t know the drama. Also, no timelines were reinvented with this album…you might have just become aware of things you didn’t know about before.
And we STILL will never know the actual ins and outs of any of these relationships. As it should be. One must also always remember that drawing inspiration from something does not mean there isn’t also imagination and amalgamation involved in the storytelling. It’s an album, not a documentary.
Okay? Okay. Let’s keep it fun. Analyze and speculate in a cool way. Don’t get weirdddd about it.
TTPD (Abby’s Version) Voice Note #2
I do think my concerns about media literacy and reading comprehension have been proven true once again over the course of these past few days. Though I don’t think most of my WHN people are the ones I’m concerned about. You smarties, you.
But we really are back in my happy place—deep diving on songs and lyrics. This is what I love talking about, not Taylor and the NFL or whatever. Though I’ll certainly make my voice heard on matters. As we all know.
I loooooooove to get into it a deep convo with people about how they took a verse in a totally different way than I did. This is the Swiftie discourse I enjoy so very much.
Are you ready to join the Department? Grab an Old Fashioned and…
…1, 2, 3 LGB!
Obviously if you read the first gazillion words of this post, you know I love The Tortured Poets Department. I think when all is said and done, this is going to be a very important chapter in the hopefully insanely long career of Taylor Alison Swift.
I am not being hyperbolic. I know it’s not that right now to a lot of people. But I believe this will be true one day to those questioning it in April 2024.
For me, TTPD gets better with every listen—like it’s on a time-release, revealing itself more and more every day, nay, hour. I think it will doing that for quite some time to come, and not just because it includes 31 songs.
There is a TON to take in and I’ll only be scratching the surface here, no matter how long-winded I am. Also, this is mostly just my own interpretation. As always, the great thing about art is that it speaks to you how it speaks to you. There aren’t always right and wrong answers or analyses. Now, taking an obvious metaphor literally is wrong…but you get my drift.
Let us start at the intro that nearly ended me. This is how I learned it involved one Ms. Stephanie Lynn Nicks.
If you know me or have been around these parts for a long time, you know that Stevie Nicks is quite literally MY EVERYTHING. Her voice has been a constant in every second of my existence. She is my high priestess of the coven. An inspiration in all that I am and do, down to how I dress. I even wear a ring inscribed with her name as part of a stack that’s a staple in my daily accessory lineup.
Oh, look, there I am from Harryween 2021, in full Stevie regalia.
So, yeah. I fucking lost my shit realizing she wrote a poem to introduce this album. Much of the fandom moved on from this far too quickly. I may need to get in front of a camera to talk some talk about this matter further in the days to come.
Now, on top of all that, regular readers and friends also know that Lindsey Buckingham is one of my original little girl crushes—and I’d already heard the album by the time word came of this poem on the physical copies.
So…we also might all share an affection for chaotic creative men that have the power to fuck us up real good, but also maybe inspire some great art. (Well, on their parts anyway. I’m still a work in progress.)
These two tortured poets literally watch over me as I sleep…
Yes, I understand this is a chaotic energy to bring to one’s bedroom and perhaps indicative of why I’m still single. This might all make more sense once I purge my feelings through writing about these songs.
Here’s the poem. Obvs I love it.
“For T and me”
He was in love with her
Or at least she thought so
She was broken hearted
Maybe he was too
Neither of them knew.
She was way too hot to handle
He was way too high to try
He couldn’t even see her
He wouldn’t open his eyes
She was on her way to the stars
He didn’t say goodbye
She looked back from her future
And shed a few tears
He looked into his past
And actually felt fear.
For both of them
The answers would never be
Ever clear
Don’t ask questions now
Do that later
She brings joy
He brings Shakespeare
It’s almost a tragedy
Says she
Don’t endanger me
Don’t endanger me
He really can’t answer her
He’s afraid of her
He’s hiding from her
And he knows that he’s hurting her
She tells the truth
She writes about it
She’s an informer
He’s an X-lover
There’s nothing there for her
She’s already gone
There’s nothing that can stop her
She was just flying
thru the clouds
Where he saw her
She was just making her way
To the stars
When he lost her…
Listen, you’ve either had a tortured narcissist charming antagonist genius-to-some writer/musician turn your life upside down or you haven’t. Is there a sub-department meeting for us to join? Let’s just say that, to my eye, certain kinds of singer/songwriters and certain kinds of comedian/writers are extremely similar.
Stevie gets it. Taylor gets it. I get it. Lots of you get it.
(I made these silly videos in late 2022/early 2023, btw)
All are free to have whatever thoughts and opinions about the lead singer of The 1975 that they’d like to. Of course. I totally get that and would not argue against it if you hate him with passion. I do think you can take the actual person out of the mix as you listen to the album and imagine the TYPE of dude that is.
But, also…facts. For me, anyway.
What a way to open this album. Truly. It’s such a flex and a stamp of approval.
Also, TTPD isn’t just about heartbreak, it’s about fame and celebrity and the expectations and projections of people you don’t know and living in the world as a creative person and a woman. Who better than Stevie Nicks to go to for thoughts on such matters?
Like, cool, hate it all you want people…I’m gonna stick with Stevie and Taylor. As I said, this album is not for everyone and I love that. This ain’t our first backlash, babies.
Should we start breaking down the songs at long last???? With a heaping main course of some of the most personal storytelling I’ve ever done...
“Fortnight” (feat. Post Malone)
This is the album opener and the lead single (though it was not released ahead of time). We got the music video for it on Friday evening, as a fandom sat bleary-eyed and emotionally spent—in the best possible way.
When she was doing more traditional album rollouts, Taylor had a, um, reputation for not always picking the best lead single. We did some loving teasing as fans and understood when those outside of our Swiftie circles were like, WTF? The relief I felt when the rest of Lover was pretty much nothing like “ME!” was palpable.
This is one of my favorite first singles of hers in a minute. I love “Anti-Hero”, but I also enjoy that this feels catchy in a much less “oh this is a SINGLE” way than that song. Which is a correct choice for this album.
Here’s Taylor talking about it
“‘Fortnight’ is a song that exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album. One of which being fatalism — longing, pining away, lost dreams. I think that it’s a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about life or death. ‘I love you, it’s ruining my life.’ These are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. It’s that kind of album.”
I love that it sets up the drama and the hyperbole that weaves throughout TTPD.
“I love you, it’s ruining my life.”
“I want to kill her.”
You know, the parts that get lost on people who don’t know how to analyze literature or think critically, not literally. Sigh.
We open with the song picking up—in a way—from where we left off with “Hits Different”, a bonus track from the CD-only Target exclusive version of Midnights. It wasn’t released on digital and streaming until May 2023.
Post the banging bridge in that one, she sings:
I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway
Is that your key in the door?
Is it okay? Is it you?
Or have they come to take me away?
To take me away
Then “Fortnight” opens with:
I was supposed to be sent away
But they forgot to come and get me
I was a functioning alcoholic
'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic
So yeah, that’s the state we’re in on this album.
All my mornings are Mondays
Stuck in an endless February
I took the miracle move on drug
The effects were temporary
Taylor worked with her go-tos, Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, to write and produce TTPD and this song is classic Jack with some pretty mellow synths and drums.
Some are sick of Jack. I am not one of them. I very much vibe with the mix of Jack and Aaron on these recent albums. But that’s just me. I understand why others feel they want less of him. Maybe they’ll be proven right on future endeavors. I do think he provides an incredibly safe space for her (as one of her best friends) that leads to excellent things, even on songs he doesn’t work on.
Sidebar: Is there a version of this song (even if some lyrics evolved later) that she and Matty laid down in a demo during all those days at Electric Lady last summer? To me it feels like the fortnight could be about their first hangs back in Tumblr era 2014 or, again, just a non-literal way to quantify a short period of time.
I’m going to work under this assumption in my own head and if it is ever played for me, I’ll keep it in MY vault. Or I can, like, try to cast a spell to eternal sunshine it from my brain. Or I guess get my hands on some miracle move-on drug.
I digress, but she and Posty sound great together. I love the haunting lilt of this tune that still bangs. It’s got a nice beat to it and that bridge is stunnnnnnning.
Seriously, who has better vibrations than Post Malone at this juncture? He must be just an utter gem because everyone in the industry fucking loves working with that guy8. The talent is obvious, but the intangibles are out of control.
As I like to mention, my dad LOVES Post and I feel he must be his biggest fan over 75 that isn’t related to him. My apple did not fall far from the tree, you’ll see, when it comes to not giving a shit how old you are as a fan of someone. We also are both great judges of character. Gary G stays winning this spring!
Taylor on Post:
And Austin Richard Post on Taylor Alison Swift:
Here’s the music video, which I really love—and that’s not always the case for me with Blondie’s MVs. Their on-screen chemistry is FIRE and it’s wild to see him without his tattoos. Also, if he would ever like to grab my face the way he does Taylor’s, I would be justtttttt fine with that. I never thought I’d be this sexually attracted to that man, but here we are.
When I was writing the Fortnight music video, I wanted to show you the worlds I saw in my head that served as the backdrop for making this music. Pretty much everything in it is a metaphor or a reference to one corner of the album or another. For me, this video turned out to be the perfect visual representation of this record and the stories I tell in it. @postmalone blew me away on set as our tortured tragic hero and I’m so grateful to him for everything he put into this collaboration. I’m still laughing from getting to work with the coolest guys on earth, @ethanhawke and @mrjoshcharles (tortured poets, meet your colleagues from down the hall, the dead poets). I still can’t believe I get to work with the unfathomably brilliant @rpstam on cinematography and my team of dream collaborators:
@ethantobman - production design
@chancler - editor
@dimino.anthony - 1st AD
@jilyjill - producer
@dom________________ - executive producer
@prlmt aced the VFX as always. @josephcassell1, @lorrieturkand @jemmamuradian made these tortured looks come to life. The entire crew made this a dream to shoot. Thank you to everyone involved and everyone who has watched it!!
There is absolutely fabulous work by her regular glam team of Lorrie Turk and Jemma Muradian. They really don’t miss, but there is some special stuff in this one and if I was still a beauty editor, ohhhhh the stories I’d be writing—with proper context and research and not a bunch of bullshit that lacks both of those things.
Rodrigo Prieto was the director of photography/cinematographer, with Taylor once again writing and directing. They also worked together on “Willow”, “Cardigan”, and “The Man”. Rodrigo’s served as DP for Greta Gerwig on Barbie, Scorsese on Killers of the Flower Moon and Wolf of Wall Street, Ang Lee on Brokeback Mountain, Ben Affleck on Argo, and many more…so he’s got serious film chops. I bet whenever she shoots her feature film debut, he’ll be there too.
Callouts/References from the video that spoke to me:
Clara Bow-adjacent makeup. “Clara Bow” is track 16 on TTPD.
The Bride of Frankenstein set-up. Remember I was just talking about her Mary Shelley/Gothic novel thing the other day? I also absolutely studied this film in my favorite class from senior year, Literary Theory and Horror Film, or some such title, and almost certainly did some of my work for it in Duke’s Gothic Reading Room.
Oh, and when did that movie premiere across the US? April 19/20, 1935.
This aesthetic is also giving us poetess. A bit of Emily Dickinson meets Mary Shelley, mayhaps.
The silhouettes. The representation of inside her head. Which is what this album very much is to me.
It’s giving callback to the “Style” video from 1989. No, that does not mean that “Style” is about Matty Healy. Good lord, people.
They’re reading “The Story of Us”9 , which is just a great nod to longtime fans.
An EKG is not just an EKG. This is also a callback to her literal heartbeat being used in “You’re Losing Me” and all the imagery around not finding a pulse and “my heart won’t start anymore, for you”.
If you’re less well-versed in Mr. Matty Healy, here’s a great lil video.
We also have our first typewriter moment. Here, as the tools the lovers use to communicate, with Taylor’s beloved colored smoke flowing between the two.
This comment on the Tiktok I posted above nearly ended me. It’s giving Tia’s Seven Days in June and there is nothing more romantic to me than two writers secretly communicating through their art.
🚨🚨BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THIS VIDEO GIVES US DEAD POETS MEETS TORTURED POETS🚨🚨
Knox Overstreet and Todd Anderson! I died, Taylor. Died fucking dead. The name tags on their lab coats! I SQUEALED. From beyond the grave, I guess.
How are you this good at all times? As a Gen X Swiftie I don’t know how to thank you. It also feels like another nod to those who can get the most from this album. The elders of the fandom. (Remember just because something’s not FOR you, doesn’t mean you can’t like it!!!)
Whoever said she dressed them up like Aaron and Jack is onto something.
My heart exploded.
If this helps younger Swifties discover the film, well that’s just another blessing.
Onto the desks we go once more. Professor Keating and Professor Swift, forever.
SOBBING.
“The Tortured Poets Department”
Taylor doesn’t always do a title track for every album10, but we got one here. This song has been in heavy rotation since the first listen. Though I’ve been doing a ton of just playing TTPD all the way through, front to back.
But hooooooo boy talk about FEELING SEEN in a song about feeling seen.
It was a lot to take, this dagger of a song that cut to the core of me. On the second track. And many in the fandom went, “Oh maybe the subjects of this album are going to be a bit different than expected.” They sure fucking were.
She had me at typewriter once more.
Here as a symbol of the quirk with a certain type of man that a certain type of girl can fall for REAL hard, even when if said quirk is patently absurd and pretentious. (I only use that specific example because it was my own hetero experience, but any person of any gender identity could be slotted into these “roles”.)
You left your typewriter at my apartment
Straight from the tortured poets department
I think some things I never say
Like, who uses typewriters anyway?
Well done, GQ social team in remembering you had this perfect clip on hand from a past interview with Matty. To be fair, I am also all about a notebook and still write out certain things by hand.
So let’s take a moment here to level set that, yes, it would seem that a huge chunk of this album is about Taylor’s relationship/situationship with Matty Healy of The 1975. Something that dates back to 2014ish, the Tumblr era, the 1989 era, their self-titled debut album era, etc.
There are people who immediately understand an attraction to Matty specifically or a Matty type and those who just…don’t. My friend and I were talking about the fact that it does feel generational to some extent.
Listen, I’m not going to sit here and tell you not to have problems with this man. I will say that not everything you might have seen about him on the internet is necessarily true or contextualized in a way that lays out the whole scenario. Now, he’s also done some stuff that I would never defend. You feel however you feel.
Regardless, I getttttttt ittttttt.
Here’s a snippet of what I wrote about him in November 2022. Ironically this is the post where I also detailed what it was like to fight in The Great War with Ticketmaster—and the title comes from a 1975 lyric.
Speaking of fangirl life, back in 2013 I made an extremely concerted effort to NOT fall into the full-on spiral of Matty Healy/The 1975 fandom because I simply didn’t have the bandwidth.
I listened to the music (loved, obvs), paid a bit of attention to the culture around the band (especially as it related to people I was already in deep with like Taylor and to a lesser extent back then, One Direction)—but I kept it all at arm’s length because I knewwhat would happen.
Now in 2022, when I logistically have even less bandwidth fan-wise, I think I might be powerless to stop it. Damn it. I hate it. JK, I love it.
Matty Healy is so beautiful and insufferable and talented and fucked up and compelling and obnoxious. Yummmmmmm.
My friend Maura always says, “Matty is such a beautiful weirdo.” Yes, yes he is. I both want to punch him squarely in the face and do many other, um, things to him…
…Like, those knees? Those curls? Those expressive eyes and brows? The way his accent sometimes shines through even when he’s singing? Come. On. They’ve been using this living room set situation at their shows too. I love it. Even when he eats raw meat on stage. (It’s performance art, people. Feel free to dislike, but please know that there is a layer of irony and acting to it.)
Plus, Matty has long been one for wonderfully odd and perfect lyrical turns of phrase…it’s one of the reasons I always knew if I let myself, I’d be done for…Stay tuned to this space as you can watch me devolve in real time—and be both proud of and annoyed with 2013 Abby for not allowing this to happen sooner.
I think I’m going to make a separate post soon with some additional reading materials for TTPD. Real literature and whatnot, but also some old WHN posts that might help contextualize some of the album.
For now, I’ll also add this, from May 2023, just after I had seen my first Eras shows in Nashville, with Matty in attendance, even joining Phoebe Bridgers and boygenius on stage. Yes, he also hung out with her dad on tour.
Listen, I don’t want to get into a ton about this (whatever THIS is) but let’s just say, I both dig it and get it on every level. What I hate is a bunch of people online getting their slut shamey commentary ready to hurl at my girl…AGAIN. It’s so gross and lame and retro and reductive.
Meanwhile, many of the Swiftie children of Generation Z (who I generally love!) are spiraling, natch. It tracks that many don’t understand the appeal of a man like Matty Healy, not that it’s a requirement to like him or his music. They also believe things they saw one person say about him in a TikTok one time and think they know all the things. Sigh. We’re back to my media literacy thing again.
Youths, I promise you that a grown 33-year-old woman is perfectly capable of making decisions about her life and it will truly have no bearing on how you live yours or what your experience is like at a show. It’s giving big “You Need To Calm Down” energy, with a side of you don’t know enough about different kinds of relationships you’ll experience in life yet.
Both of these people are extremely clever and talented and looooooove a bit—not that I think what they’re doing is a bit, but I do think they’re not afraid to fuck with people on top of it. That delights me to no end. Also, LET THE WOMAN LIVE.
My last thought on the matter (unless you are a person who has me available on text) is: Let’s just (hypothetically) say that if a guy who had maybe (hypothetically) fancied himself too cool for me at a certain point in the (hypothetical) past was now willing to travel across multiple time zones to appear (hypothetically) mesmerized by my mere presence and power…I might (hypothetically) be extremely interested in spending time + (hypothetically) doing other things with that (hypothetical) person.
Just sayin’.
But again, when we’re talking about relationship lore, it’s super fun—except when people make it too weird. None of that vibe here. More importantly, though, what Taylor does so beautifully for many of us is put to words an experience that also feels very much our own.
The convos I’ve been having this week with my nearest and dearest Swifties has involved a lot of, “Well My Matty™…” The ghosts of angsty, damaged, charismatic, emotionally unavailable, tortured, intoxicating, artsy types of our pasts have appeared once more thanks to TTPD and we’re talking it out in ways that maybe we never fully have, or certainly haven’t done in a long time. With a new perspective, and in my case, a whole lot of therapy.
Even though I’ve been fundamentally okay about my own personal sitch for a long while now, it’s been wildly cathartic to revisit it all and each chat makes me fall deeper in love with this album. And learn new things about some of my friends and their lives before I met them.
There are those that won’t get this angle, and that’s okay.
As one friend said, “Some of you have never been gaslit by a fry cook, and it shows.” I cackled.
Because one would def have gone to see that hypothetical fry cook play at, like, Arlene’s Grocery as the opener to the opener and chain smoked while getting more hammered late night playing Photo Hunt at 7B. That fry cook fully believed he was the next Fabrizio Moretti or Albert Hammond Jr.
So My Matty™, as some of you know because you lived through it with me, was a charming yet ornery comedy writer (he wasn’t doing stand-up then) named Neal.
I met him one spring night in New York City while out with my boss, Jane Pratt, and some of her friends at Joe’s Pub. Libby Calloway was at the NY Post and doing a “Night in the Life of…” on JP. I wish the story was online. LOL of course it’s not, but I remember Michael Stipe was definitely there.
I actually know the exact date because earlier that night we went to the premiere of Notting Hill. Because of course I saw a Hugh Grant/Julia Roberts rom-com and then met-cute this man who would become a defining factor in my life, for better or worse.
May 13, 1999.
Julia was dating Benjamin Bratt. Remember when everyone lost their minds because she had visible armpit hair at the London premiere? What a time.
Neal was only a couple years older than me, but he seemed SO much more mature—something I later felt was emotionally weaponized against me. He had a full-on writing career (dreammmmmmy!) and actual real, success in Hollywood.
I wanted to run far away from the preppy, lax-playing future finance bros that littered my college nights and there he was, buying me vodka sodas and charming the everything off of me…well, later that night.
We talked and talked and flirted and laughed and I was DONE FOR.
The conversation was challenging in the best way. He was antagonistic and unafraid. I thought he was the smartest, funniest person I’d ever met. AND HE LIKED ME.
I was both feeling myself and wildly insecure at the same time. I did not have the upper hand that night—and rarely did over the course of our many years in each other’s lives. He was usually brutally honest with me about where he stood and I just flat out wouldn’t believe him when I didn’t want to. Oops.
Such is the life of the girlies who live in the delulu.
Sidebar: Listen, I said we were doing some purging of the past and I meant it. I cannot tell you how wild it feels to me to tell any part of this story and my feelings around it “out loud” as it were. But as I texted a friend last night, “Like this thing I’m writing is for me. It would be awesome if other people like it and I won’t lie about that making me feel good. But even if I thought everyone was going to hate it, I’d still be doing it.”
When I say this album has shifted me in a pretty huge way, I’m not exaggerating. And if you think this is self-indulgent nonsense, you might be right! That’s cool! Did you see my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism?????? So tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?
But I go back to what Taylor wrote in her post about TTPD:
An anthology of new works that reflect events, opinions and sentiments from a fleeting and fatalistic moment in time - one that was both sensational and sorrowful in equal measure. This period of the author’s life is now over, the chapter closed and boarded up. There is nothing to avenge, no scores to settle once wounds have healed. And upon further reflection, a good number of them turned out to be self-inflicted. This writer is of the firm belief that our tears become holy in the form of ink on a page. Once we have spoken our saddest story, we can be free of it.
And then all that’s left behind is the tortured poetry.
On Wednesday, I asked my tarot deck what lesson I should take from finally finishing writing this—*waves hand* whatever this is.
Welp, there you go.
“Rejoice! The Sun is shining and gives freely of its warmth and light. If you have been shivering in the shadows, now is the time to step out into the golden rays and let yourself be nourished and healed. Every breath will bring you renewed energy and vitality. Allow joy to enter your heart and watch the wounds of the past diminish and fade. Now is a time to rekindle your youthful, childlike fire. Run through fields, play and live fearlessly, and dance and sing without shame. You will bloom and flourish in this time. Enjoy!”
I will not be taking you through a play-by-play11 of what became a multi-year saga—or into our bedroom with any detail (though LOVE that Taylor is like, “Yes I am a grown ass woman who likes to get off!”)
There is a moment, however, that I think figures so fundamentally into the fairytale I started creating in my head that night—and feels a bit Swifitian in its lore.
Because, sweet lord, was it a perfect storm of a girl who had spent her life romanticizing things inside her head and devouring romance novels way too young, pretty freshly in Manhattan, working at the coolest magazine and legit feeling like she was in some kind of movie…meeting a boy who fucking writes movies and seems smarter and more confident than any other man she’s ever met. The banter the girl always dreamed of was REAL. At last.
Anyway, I hadn’t planned on going out that night when I went to work at good old 7 W. 34th St. Then my friend Brooke, who was the assistant to our fashion director Sciascia, said she was taking S’s tix to the premiere and did I want to go with? Duh. JP was going too. So we got me into a casual long-ish black slip dress12 from the fashion closet. I threw on one of my staple bra-strap headbands and a lip and off we went. The thing was, I hadn’t shaved my legs in a minute. I’d been in jeans or pants or something.
Now, this mattered greatly to me because HOW could I let a new guy touch my stubbly legs??? It’s so dumb, but the way we are conditioned about body hair is no joke. How on earth I felt comfortable enough to say something about this to him is beyond me, even with a couple vodkas. But I did.
His response was something like, “I’ll shave them when we get home.” Now, some might laugh or scoff or find that gross or silly.
When I tell you the way I SWOONED. We took a cab uptown and I then sat on the edge of the claw foot (of course!) bathtub in his midtown apartment13 while he shaved my legs. It felt so intimate and personal and like I knew my life was changing. I just didn’t know how it was going to go. If I had, would I have run? Eh, probably not.
I legit felt like I was in a song. Or a movie. Or one of my Danielle Steel books. Actually, one of his friends’ bands did use it in some lyrics I think??? It would certainly have been a moment Taylor could have put into some beautifully specific verse. Is it any wonder I became a Swiftie??????
On our first proper date like a week later (he called! bless!), he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. I met him at his place on a Saturday afternoon and we walked through the UWS until we got to a theater.
But it wasn’t a show, it was a bodybuilding competition. No joke.
That’s when I learned about the hours-long walks he would take, sometimes super late at night, to clear his head to write or to work out ideas. Like, he’d usually always have notecards with him for that. Too bad he couldn’t carry a typewriter around 😉.
He’d seen a poster for this thing and been like, “HA! There are random bodybuilding competitions in beautiful old theaters on the Upper West Side” and ironically bought tix not knowing who he would go with.
Enter me. Once more, swooning and already falling madly in love. This was not one the silly, dumb boys of my past, I thought. I died laughing the entire afternoon and felt like I was in a Christopher Guest movie.
My brain and my body were stimulated beyond anything I’d ever felt before. I didn’t go home for like three days.
That same Saturday night, we eventually got out of bed and he took me to a party at his friend/writing partner Mike’s apartment. It was filled with SNL writers and Harvard Lampoon people and the kind of conversations I’d dreamed would be part of my life in New York. I felt cooler and more wanted than I ever had in my life.
This began a cycle of intense situationship/long-term relationship/breakup/makeup/breakup/makeup/situationship that looks like the long-term relationship for a couple days at a time…for way too long. I could NOT let it go. Apparently, I still haven’t. Fully anyway.
Right away, he started sharing the pain of his childhood with me in a way that created an intimacy I had always craved. The push and pull of drawing you deeply in, then pushing you away is a classic trait of a My Matty™. To the point that you sometimes feel like you’re going insane. I also know for sure I was often in denial.
In those heady early days, I remember a moment when we were lying on his bed, fully clothed, just talking, and holding each other. Elliot Smith was playing. I’m not even kidding. It was the Good Will Hunting soundtrack. If I wrote that detail into a fictional scene now, I feel like the note would come back, “too on the nose.” But while the heartbreaking sounds of “Say Yes” or “Angeles” or “Between the Bars” reverberated around the room, he said, “I don’t think my dad loves me and I’m pretty sure he never has.”
It took my breath away.
I pulled him in so tight and I swear to god I could physically feel his pain entering my chest and my own love and empathy pushing its way into his. He felt it too. We basically didn’t move or speak for maybe 20 mins and then were like WTF was that?
I am only comfortable sharing anything about his relationship with his father or his family because he has been so open about it in his own work. But, yeah, it was a lot. Because certainly one thing I had never ever questioned in my own life was whether or not my parents fucking loved me. Also, I was like 23 years-old.
All I wanted to do was protect him and make him feel better. I offered him my family and I meant it. He knew that, too.
If you want to get the full picture, watch 3 Mics. That’s what I had my dad do once it came out.
Looking back, I think it was the moment I decided I’d never give up on him or us. Even that early on. I didn’t move on even A LITTLE BIT for almost a decade. Pieces of me are still there…and god dammit if Taylor Swift isn’t helping me take some much-needed final steps a gazillion years later.
You see (and I bet I’m not alone on this), I thought the damage and depression I learned lived within him made him more interesting than I could ever be. I thought he was evolved when he told me he was in therapy three times a week, not that he was dealing with stuff beyond my experience in life at that point. I thought if a love was hard and complicated, that made it more significant. I believed if I had to work for it, that meant it mattered more. And I had never not gotten something I’d worked hard at and applied myself to.
I’m a type-A eldest daughter. I’ve fucking got this. HAHAHAHAHAHA!
I just KNEW I could love big enough to fix him, like a naive 20-something girl might. I also bought into the idea that I had so much to learn from him.
TTPD (Abby’s Version) Voice Note #3
He’s not a bad person14 and my god did he come by his shit honestly—and was constantly striving to do the work and tell me who he really was in that moment. I don’t think I gave him all my best me’s by any means, but I sure tried hard in the only way I knew how at the time.
I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy
And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier
Fighting in only your army
Frontlines, don't you ignore me
I'm the best thing at this party
(You're losin' me)
And I wouldn't marry me either
A pathological people pleaser
Who only wanted you to see her
—You’re Losing Me, Taylor Swift
I also made a gazillion mistakes. My teen petulance exposed itself so often because I was wildly ill-equipped at expressing my own wants and needs. And I was a kid. So was he, really. We were fucking modern idiots.
I shoved things down until they exploded. A lot. I still do this, but I understand my patterns more clearly all these years later and actively work on it. I also did a lot of other stuff that I’d apologize for, now that I know myself better.
My god, the things you think you understand in your 20s. Like you have life figured out as if you’re not a low-key fake grownup at that point.
There'll be happiness after you
But there was happiness because of you
Both of these things can be true
There is happiness
Past the blood and bruise
Past the curses and cries
Beyond the terror in the nightfall
Haunted by the look in my eyes
That would've loved you for a lifetime
Leave it all behind
And there is happiness
Tell me, when did your winning smile
Begin to look like a smirk?
When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?
I hope she'll be a beautiful fool
Who takes my spot next to you
No, I didn't mean that
Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury
You haven't met the new me yet
There'll be happiness after me
But there was happiness because of me
Both of these things I believe
There is happiness
In our history
Across our great divide
There is a glorious sunrise
Dappled with the flickers of light
From the dress I wore at midnight
Leave it all behind
And there is happiness
I can't make it go away by making you a villain
I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven
And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties
No one teaches you what to do
When a good man hurts you
And you know you hurt him too
Honey, when I'm above the trees
I see it for what it is
But now my eyes leak acid rain
On the pillow where you used to lay your head
After giving you the best I had
Tell me what to give after that
All you want from me now
Is the green light of forgiveness
You haven't met the new me yet
And I think she'll give you that
There'll be happiness after you
But there was happiness because of you too
Both of these things can be true
There is happiness
In our history
Across our great divide
There is a glorious sunrise
Dappled with the flickers of light
From the dress I wore at midnight
Leave it all behind
Oh, leave it all behind
Leave it all behind
And there is happiness
—Happiness, Taylor Swift
I feel our story woven through this album, as it will be woven through the rest of this track list—which I swear we’re about to get back to. I bet a lot of you see your stories, too. One of my favorite things about We Have Notes is learning how many experiences and feelings we have in common.
But…much like Taylor, upon these many years of reflection I realized a number of the wounds were self-inflicted. Thank god for perspective and therapy…and Taylor motherfucking Swift.
If you feel like telling me the story of a My Matty™, I’m all in.
Remember how we were talking about the title track of this album 45 minutes ago? Let’s get back into it.
Also, it’s a bop.
So yeah, I was broken wide open by the second song. Imagine what I was like after the 2 AM surprise.
I had seen the episode and all that came with it—and I wanted to go back to it every time it went off the air. I thought I was a special key to unlocking his life. OY.
But you're in self-sabotage mode
Throwin' spikes down on the road
But I've seen this episode and still loved the show
Who else decodes you?And who's gonna hold you like me?
And who's gonna know you if not me?
I died dead at the chorus because omggggggg when you’re dating someone who believes he is intellectually superior to most people in the room, it’s giving this. Ironically, mine also had a chip on his shoulder about his education in that era—even though he dropped out of NYU all of his own accord to start his career. WHICH WAS GOING GREAT. But it always felt like he believed he had something to prove to those Lampoon boys. Meanwhile, they were like YOU GOT A MOVIE MADE.
I like that Taylor called him out on his nonsense here.
I laughed in your face and said
You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots
And who's gonna hold you like me?
Nobody, no-fucking-body, nobody
I also just remembered last night that one time Neal and I had dinner with Patti Smith. It was a small group. That back patio at Lupa on Thompson. Like, I’d definitely not always forgotten that, but what in the trauma brain bullshit let that stunning memory leave my head? And not because of him, but because I must never forget anything involving Patti fucking Smith entering my life for a brief moment!!!!
She had this to say about her inclusion in the song. We now have sign-off from Stevie and Patti. Bless.
Oh, and Carole King too.
Sidebar: Did any of my other Gen X/elder millennial Swifties think of the Dylan-Dylan contest from Dangerous Minds the second they heard the name Dylan Thomas?? That might just be a weird Abby brain thing.
And then you swing right back into a soft moment that makes you forget about the sharp-edged ones. Ironically, mine did not smoke weed—but he did co-write a cult classic movie about it so….
You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist
I scratch your head, you fall asleep
Like a tattooed Golden Retriever
But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head
But I've read this one where you come undone
I chose this cyclone with you
The melodrama, that chosen cyclone, is often what helps feed this kind of relationship. But there’s also the how and when do I let my friends in on the mania of this love affair? Because then I also have to inform them when it implodes over and over and over again. And I keep going back.
Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me
But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
And I had said that to Jack about you so I felt seen
Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be'Cause we're crazy
So tell me, who else is gonna know me?
And this. This is the shit that brings you back.
At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger
And put it on the one people put wedding rings on
And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding
I found some old stuff last month that I hadn’t looked at in a long time. It feels like now I know why I dug through that box when I did. Because for all the friction-filled times, there were the golden retriever head scratches and the promises and…some version of love.
He used to talk about how his friend/then-writing partner Mike told him about a conversation I’d had with him and his then-girlfriend/now-wife JJ about our relationship and how I listed all these mundane, but lovely, (to Mike and JJ, I guess) reasons Neal was “it for me” and how good that made him feel because that wasn’t his experience through a lot of his life. Which is heartbreaking.
Of course baby me thought I could fix him.
The notes I found were also a nice reminder that I wasn’t fucking crazy. That shit did happen. Maybe he was performing love and I couldn’t tell the difference or didn’t want to. It doesn’t really matter. The side effects are the same either way.
Now, I also had to hear this many years later and that certainly didn’t feel great. I had forgotten that he literally name checks Taylor in this clip. Like, wtf universe?
Two final thoughts on this song:
My god, the way she sings “me” with a rasp and a rawness throughout is absolutely devastating.
Did I hear a hint of musical inspo from “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” by Deneice Williams at the beginning? Jack, please advise.
“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”
I love how vulnerable Taylor is about her own mess on this album. I love this unhinged journey through her brain we’re on with TTPD.
She’s an extremely complicated weirdo (high high praise!) wrapped up in the physicality of what our culture stereotypically defines as beautiful: tall, blonde, skinny, white, etc. That mask/pretty privilege is certainly helpful, and I’m not saying she hasn’t benefited greatly from her appearance or used it to her advantage at times. Who wouldn’t?
But I think on the flip side, it hides her truest self in a way I’m not sure the general public or younger/just newer Swifties comprehend. I can imagine that feels stifling and claustrophobic and exhausting at times. She looks like she fits in. But she’s never really fit in. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always been drawn to her art and I believe might be one of her own core traumas.
I also think it makes being one of the cool kids with Travis very appealing. That is not a knock. I understand.
I love this clip from Tia’s book event for A Love Song for Ricki Wilde here in Indy. She was obviously not speaking about Taylor, but I feel like this applies to her. To Tia. To me. Probably many of you, aka “people who present as typical, but are actually aliens.”
Like, OF COURSE, she fell hard for a guy like this and he fucked her up. And the idea of him appears to have tortured and titillated her for almost a decade. Same, girl, same.
In my mind, the Travis-type guy feels like the exception, not the rule, for people like that. And people like me. But more on that in a bit.
To me, this song is so much about the rationalizing you do inside your own head and to other people in your life to try to explain how this is happening…
There was a litany of reasons why
We could've played for keeps this time
I know I'm just repeating myself
Put me back on my shelf
But first - Pull the string
And I'll tell you that he runs
Because he loves me.
Cause you should've seen him
When he first saw me.My boy only breaks his favorite toys
I'm queen of sand castles he destroys
Cause I knew too much
There was danger in the heat of my touch
He saw forever so he smashed it up
Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys
Bye, this line destroyed me.
Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me
Taylor, yes. I feel you.
Just say when, I'd play again
He was my best friend
Down at the sandlot
I felt more when we played pretend
Than with all the Kens15
Cause he took me out of my box
Stole my tortured heart
Left all these broken parts
Told me I'm better off
But I'm not
I'm not
I'm not.
“Down Bad”
As I mentioned, Neal and I had a lot of ons and offs. I realize now that the first time he was like, “I don’t think I want to be in a relationship” I should have believed him. But that’s not what happened and I live with the consequences of my own actions. As it should be.
I’ve literally never written or maybe even talked about the sum total of that relationship in this much detail in my life. There’s a part of me that feels embarrassed about the lasting effects of something that happened so long ago—and in the grand scheme of life, not even for that long.
But the thing about defining moments and people is that they don’t come with an expiration date or a time-spent minimum. And sometimes they can fuck you up forever. Not that I think I am fucked up fucked up forever, but you know what I mean. I hope.
The ways I was pathetic during those breakups. Jesus, Ab. Talk about cringe.
I have told this story a few times over the years because, honestly, good job by my wit in a terrible moment.
We’d spent the whole weekend together (our time was always always always on his schedule, duh!) and on Sunday afternoon he’s like, “We need to talk” and proceeds to do the whole I can’t/don’t want to do this relationship, I’m so sorry. Blah blah blah. Apparently he had still been fine with fucking me that morning. But, anywayyyyyy….
…he’d been in Italy recently and was like, “Can I still give you your birthday present?” We’d been talking this shit through for like two hours at that point, I think.
Through my lingering choke sobs, with a teary, small voice, I said, “Is it you?” He was like, “No, baby.” And without missing a goddamn beat, I followed up with, “Is it shoes?” In so many ways, he was Big and I was Carrie, but maybe never more than in that moment lol.
Anyway, they were my first Guccis and I still have them. Though I never ever wear a heel like that anymore. My poor, feeble feet wouldn’t know what to do.
I was down fucking bad though.
A few weeks later, my mom booked me a flight and brought me home for a visit because I was such a mess. I was also mortified that a boy could fuck me up like that.
But for a moment, I knew cosmic love.
Now I'm down bad crying at the gym
Everything comes out teenage petulance
"Fuck it if I can't have him"
"I might just die, it would make no difference."
Down bad, waking up in blood
Staring at the sky, come back and pick me up
Fuck it if I can't have us.
I might just not get up
I might stay down bad
Here’s Taylor talking about the song.
The songs on The Tortured Poets Department deal with the idea of heartbreak or loss in a metaphor of something else. The metaphor in Down Bad is that I was comparing sort of the idea of being, you know, like love bombed where someone rocks your world and dazzles you and then just kind of abandons you as an alien abduction, where you were abducted by aliens but you wanted, like, this girl was abducted by aliens but she wanted to stay with them. And then when they like drop her back off in her home town, she’s like, “Wait, no, where are you going, I liked it there! It was weird but it was cool. Come back!” And so she’s just like, the girl in the character in the song felt like “I’ve just been exposed to a whole different galaxy and universe and didn’t know it was possible, how could you just put me back where I was before?
And when you feel like that and you get an email in the middle of work one day that says simply, “I can’t stop thinking about you,” you run back, against all your better judgment and the advice of everyone who loves you.
Love bombs’ll do that to a girl.
This is just gorgeous writing, too. The way she drops off and doesn’t say the word “over”? Perfection.
I loved your hostile takeovers
Encounters closer and closer
All your indecent exposures
How dare you say that it's—
I'll build you a fort on some planet
Where they can all understand it
How dare you think it's romantic
Leaving me safe and stranded
'Cause fuck it, I was in love
So fuck you if I can't have us
'Cause fuck it, I was in love
“So Long, London”
Track 5s in the Swiftverse are very important. They are typically the most personal and emotional and vulnerable songs on the album. This one is certainly all of those things, but I daresay this whole record is like a GD Track 5 to me.
This song feels very much like it’s about Joe Alwyn, who she dated for six years. That is not a hot take. I think the Matty relationship we saw last year was a reaction to that split, which makes so much sense. Especially since some level of feeling and curiosity seemed to have been lingering around since the first alleged hookup era in 2014. Another thing I understand all too well.
“So Long, London” is definitely a gut punch and calls back to “You’re Losing Me”, as well, with the mention of CPR, etc and the slow death of a relationship.
In that song she says:
Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?
I'm getting tired even for a phoenix
Always risin' from the ashes
Mendin' all her gashes
You might just have dealt the final blow
Stop, you're losin' me
Stop, you're losin' me
Stop, you're losin' me
I can't find a pulse
My heart won't start anymore
For you
'Cause you're losin' me
Every mornin', I glared at you with storms in my eyes
How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?
I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick
My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick
And the air is thick with loss and indecision
I know my pain is such an imposition
Now, you're runnin' down the hallway
And you know what they all say
You don't know what you got until it's gone
Now she’s asking how much sad did he think she had inside of her? What more was she supposed to take on? There’s also the imagery of stitching to and unstitching yourself from someone, which makes me think of “five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch” from “Glitch” on Midnights (3am Edition).
But it’s time to say goodbye to a person and a place that were your home for so long.
I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist
I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift
Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away
My spine split from carrying us up the hill
Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill
I stopped trying to make him laugh
Stopped trying to drill the safe
Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had
Did you think I had in me?
Oh, the tragedy ...So long, London
You'll find someone ...I didn't opt in to be your odd man out
I founded the club she's heard great things about
I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath
I stopped CPR, after all it's no use
The spirit was gone, we would never come to
And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for freeFor so long, London
Stitches undone
Two graves, one gun
I'll find someone ...And you say I abandoned the ship
But I was going down with it
My white knuckle dying grip
Holding tight to your quiet resentment and
My friends said it isn't right to be scared
Every day of a love affair
Every breath feels like rarest air
When you're not sure if he wants to be there
So how much sad did you think I had,
Did you think I had in me?
How much tragedy?
Just how low did you think I'd go?
Before I'd self-implode
Before I'd have to go be freeYou swore that you loved me but where were the clues?
I died on the altar waiting for the proof
You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days
And I'm just getting color back into my face
I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this placeFor so long, London
Had a good run
A moment of warm sun
But I'm not the one
So long, London
Stitches undone
Two graves, one gun
You'll find someone
In conclusion, Tay, I too am pissed about this—for myself. And all the years I wasted being a disaster over this dude—which has always been my issue, not his. But still.
I kept thinking, “My youth? My youth? Harvested” when I found this photo from that era. IYKYK.
“But Daddy I Love Him”
THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING IN EVERY WAY. Me and all my personalities are super fixated on it over here.
Let’s start with how fucking psyched I am to listen to Taylor saying she is done with outsider opinions about her life choices in a way she’s never said this overtly before. That goes for when you hate the guy she’s dating—or when you love him.
Basta.
I love that she’s admonishing the worst parts of the fandom and I hope they fucking listen and feel like shit. But I doubt it.
I do realize that maybe this sounds hypocritical as I’m in the middle of writing thousands of words about this woman’s work, and at times how that relates to her personal life. But I don’t think it is. Because people were acting way more than the fool last summer. And at many other times in her life.
Now, I certainly don’t know what’s in her head. But I have been in this fandom since the beginning and I know a lot about the relationship she has with us in a public-facing way. I don’t think there’s a problem with respectful analysis of her lyrics in relation to her life. She wrote them that way. That’s been a part of the foundation for a long time. Respectful is a key word there. Boundaries have and should continue to exist. I think she’s screaming at people who don’t get that and she has every right to do so.
This is also when it’s helpful to be a grownup fangirl who understands such things. Parasocial behavior is not absent from my life. Duh. Look at everything I’ve written on WHN ever. But it’s not this nonsense she’s talking about in the song. Also, private conversations and group chats exist, which is apparently something a lot of people don’t understand.
It’s one of the reasons I’m so glad we once again have a rich text to play with and analyze. These are words she has written and chosen to release into the world. That’s up for critique and analysis and we know from past experiences that she loves to see that sort of stuff. I mean, this woman makes up elaborate games for us to play and devises puzzles to solve and hides Easter eggs everywhere. That’s part of our love language with Taylor—her words, not mine. Someone making a 10-minute video about how she needs to be saved from some man and putting it on the internet is a whole different thing. And that behavior multiplied exponentially all last summer.
As she says, she’s not gonna see that soliloquy either. I bet most of those asshats had to look up that word. Sigh. She’s all, your breathless bullshit (positive and negative) fucks things up and you’re screaming into the void anyway.
Now, this song also gives me pause when it comes to people’s ability to understand symbolism, metaphors, non-literal use of words and ideas in general. The number of “omg did she just write a mean song about her dad?” posts was concerning to this English major, to say the least.
Sis, you’re probably one of the people who got way too invasive about how she was “supposed to behave” so of course you don’t get it and are like she’s yelling at Scott. No, she’s yelling at you.
Legit there are people who made a petition to her parents to try to get Matty out of the picture or removed from the Eras tour premises. NOPE NOPE NOPE.
Fuck those wine moms up, Blondie. I feel judged by them all the time, too.
This is how we start…
I forget how the West was won
I forget if this was ever fun
I just learned these people only raise you to cage you
Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best
Clutching their pearls, sighing "What a mess"
I just learned these people try and save you
... cause they hate youToo high a horse
For a simple girl to rise above it
They slammed the door on my whole world16
The one thing I wanted
Then later:
There's a lot of people in town that I
Bestow upon my fakest smiles
Scandal does funny things to pride
But brings lovers closer
We came back when the heat died down
Went to my parents and they came around
All the wine moms are still holding out
But, fuck ‘em, it's over.
Anyone who has ever dated someone that isn’t well-liked by their friends or family for whatever reason can understand this song and the way sometimes that push back just makes you want to dig in even more. That’s what I do with so many things in life, unrelated to relatioships. Like oh you think I can’t or won’t or I’m wrong? Just you wait. You haven’t even SEEN stubborn and defiant yet.
I also think that the judgment of those who disguise it as concern is something most people have experienced, especially if you make non-traditional life choices. Maybe that’s the Midwest roots jumping out, but man do I know these types of people (yes, usually women) like the back of my hand.
I became so fucking used to getting questions about marriage and babies and when am I going to do that and oh my is she okay because she’s still single or just the quiet judgment in their eyes about your life. My 20s and 30s were riddled with that energy from people of all ages from my hometown—though not from my own parents. Bless.
At least in your 40s people STFU more often about such stuff. But the quiet judgment by some? Yeah that remains. The pity? Yep it’s there.
Meanwhile, my life is fucking great and you seem tired and miserable. I’ll catch you after every concert I’m seeing this summer. Have fun with whatever it is you do in your spare time. Oh wait, never mind. Stop doing all that bullshit judging and sneering.
Along those same lines, there’s also such an eldest daughter energy to this song that doesn’t have to necessarily be tied to a relationship. It’s the times when we shed our duties for even a second or act out in ways big or small.
O, the dutiful daughters with braids! And don’t even get me started on the line, “Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.” AN ATTACK.
But those moments of unburdening, this song makes my insides feel like that:
Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid
Tendrils tucked into a woven braid
Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all
He was chaos, he was revelry
Bedroom eyes like a remedy
Soon enough the elders had convened
Down at the city hall
"Stay away from her"
The saboteurs protested too much
Lord knows the words we never heard
Just screeching tires and true loveAnd now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned
Screaming "But Daddy I love him!"
I'm having his baby
No, I'm not, but you should see your faces
I'm telling him to floor it through the fences
No, I'm not coming to my senses
I know he's crazy but he's the one I want
Also, nothing has ever felt more eldest daughter to me than this section. Anecdotal evidence from the internet and my own circles tells me many of my kind agree. Don’t mind us, we’ll just fucking handle whatever it is. As we always do.
I can report that scream-singing this in the car is the equivalent of multiple therapy sessions.
I'll tell you something right now
I'd rather burn my whole life down
Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning
I'll tell you something about my good name
It's mine alone to disgrace
I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing
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I love that we start in one place and then end up in a happy place. That’s some beautiful storytelling and masterful manipulation of tense and time she’s doing.
But her point remains the same. Just because they now like the new guy, it doesn’t matter. She’s all good with her “wild boy and his wild joy.” You don’t need to pray for them either, you sanctimonious twats.
Her name is hers alone to disgrace. Mine too, Tay. Mine too.
God save the most judgmental creeps
Who say they want what's best for me
Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see
Thinking it can change the beat
Of my heart when he touches me
And counteract the chemistry
And undo the destiny
You ain't gotta pray for me
Me and my wild boy
And all this wild joy
If all you want is gray for me
Then it's just white noise
And it's just my choice
Now I'm dancing in my dress in the sun and
Even my daddy just loves him
I'm his lady, and oh my God
You should see your faces
Time, doesn't it give some perspective
No, you can't come to the wedding
I know he's crazy but he's the one I wantI'll tell you something right now you ain't gotta pray for me
Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joyHe was chaos, he was revelry
If all you want is gray for me
Then it's just white noise, and it's my choice
I would also like to say that Taylor is an extremely funny person and I don’t think she gets enough credit for that in the GP. Like, this is hilarious.
And now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned
Screaming "But Daddy I love him!"
I'm having his baby
No, I'm not, but you should see your faces
I'm telling him to floor it through the fences
No, I'm not coming to my senses
I know he's crazy but he's the one I want
Let’s lighten the mood for a moment…
I love the internet so much sometimes.
The amount of joy this shirt has brought into my life is immeasurable. It oftentimes comes in unexpected forms and shows no signs of slowing thanks to TTPD and the Children of Divorce.
That’s a real fucking legacy to leave.
(I in no way think this song is about the British Fruit Witch, but it does open us up for a whole new round of wonderful Hontent.)
“Fresh Out the Slammer”
Thematically, I love this song because to me it’s about the way you can feel trapped in something (yes, a relationship but not necessarily) because you’re holding out for change that isn’t coming.
So then when you’re free it’s like AHHHHHHHHH. And you might just text a tattooed golden retriever who you never really got completely out of your system. Ever since back when you thought he was cooler than you and he(allegedly) wrote a song about you lighting the wrong end of a cigarette and posting your salad on the internet.
I present “Change of Heart” by The 1975. It’s a fantastic song and I was so glad they played it at my show last November.
Are we awake?
Am I too old to be this stoned?
Was it your breasts from the start?
They played a partFor goodness' sake
I wasn't told you'd be this cold
Now it's my time to depart, and
I just had a change of heartI'll quote "On the road" like a twat
And wind my way out of the city
Finding a girl who is equally pretty won't be hard
Oh, I just had a change of heartYou smashed a glass into pieces
That's around the time I left
And you were coming across as clever
Then you lit the wrong end of your cigaretteYou said, I'm full of diseases
Your eyes were full of regret
And then you took a picture of your salad
And put it on the InternetThen she said, "I've been so worried about you lately"
"You look shit and you smell a bit"
"You're mad thinking you could ever save me"
"Not looking like that"You used to have a face straight out of a magazine
Now you just look like anyone
I just had a change of heartI feel as though I was deceived
I never found love in the city
I just sat in self-pity and cried in the car
Oh, I just had a change of heart
The lyrics to “Fresh Out the Slammer” are fantastic, but I can’t say this is one of my personal favorite songs on the album. I truly have no skips at this point though.
Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to
Fresh out the slammer, ohAnother summer taking cover, running thunder
He don't understand me
Splintered back in winter's silent dinners
Bitter, he was with her in dreamsBright and blue and fights in tunnels
Handcuffed to the spell I was under
For just one hour of sunshine
Years of labor, ducts and ceilings
In the shade of how he was feeling
But it's gonna be alright, I did my timeNow pretty baby, I'm running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to
Fresh out the slammer, ohCamera flashes, welcome bashes
Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge
As I said in my letters, now that I know better
I will never lose my baby againMy friends tried but I wouldn't hear it
Watch me daily disappearing
For just one glimpse of his smile
All those nights you kept me going
Swirled you into all of my poems
Now we're at the starting line, I did my timeNow pretty baby, I'm running
To the house, we still wait up and that porch light gleams
To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams
And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway
Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake
Here, at the park where we used to sit on children's swings
Wearing imaginary ringsBut it's gonna be alright, I did my time
“Florida!!!” (feat. Florence + the Machine)
We have a number of Florida references on this album, which can feel random but I think makes a lot of sense to me symbolically.
Maybe that’s the Midwest in me again because I actually know about Destin and the timeshares there 😉. Lots of folks from around these parts go to that area for vacay. I’m literally going to be nearby next week on a lil girls trip. Ironically, Neal and I once had a terrible trip to Florida where at one point I think I stubbornly didn’t speak to him for like a full two hours during a car ride because I thought I was punishing him for some emotional offense. Ugh, this album feels so tied to my life it’s wild.
I live for Florence and genuinely love this song, but it’s not currently in my heavy rotation at the moment. That’s not the case for many others in my life. This one is popping off all over. I know it will be at some point for me and I’ll have a whole new wave of feelings.
Swift said the inspiration for this track actually came from “always watching ‘Dateline.'”
“People have these crimes that they commit; where do they immediately skip town and go to? They go to Florida. They try to reinvent themselves, have a new identity, blend in. I think when you go through a heartbreak, there’s a part of you that thinks, ‘I want a new name. I want a new life. I don’t want anyone to know where I’ve been or know me at all.’ And so that was the jumping off point. Where would you go to reinvent yourself and blend in? Florida!”
I do think it’s a fair theory to say she may have written this during the part of the tour when she was leaving Texas and heading to Florida for shows, as the news of her breakup with Joe became public. I never thought that was actually when they broke up, it’s when the world learned.
But that brings with it a whole other onslaught of emotions and weird ass energy coming at someone.
Also, this is just a great fucking line to describe the life stage she’s in at 34: “And my friends all smell like weed or little babies” What a fucking pen, man!
You can beat the heat if you beat the charges too
They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true
And my friends all smell like weed or little babies
And this city reeks of driving myself crazyLittle did you know
Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in
So you work your life away
Just to pay for a timeshare down in DestinFlorida, is one hell of a drug
Florida, can I use you up?A hurricane with my name, when it came
I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away
Barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine
Well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time
Yes, I'm haunted but I'm feeling just fine
All my girls got their lace and their crimes
And your cheating husband disappeared
Well, no one asks any questions hereSo I did my best to lay to rest
All of the bodies that have ever been on my body
And in my mind, they sink into the swamp
Is that a bad thing to say in a song?Little did you know
Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested
So you pack your life away
Just to wait out the shitstorm back in TexasFlorida, is one hell of a drug
Florida, can I use you up?I need to forget, so take me to Florida
I've got some regrets, I'll bury them in Florida
Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable
At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up FloridaI need to forget, so take me to Florida
I've got some regrets, I'll bury them in Florida
Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable
What a crush, what a rush, fuck me up FloridaIt's one hell of a drug
It's one hell of a drug
Love me like this and I don't want to exist
So take me to FloridaLittle did you know
Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in
So you work your life away
Just to pay for a timeshare down in Destin (take me to Florida)
Little did you know
Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested in
So you pack your life away
Just to wait out the shitstorm back in TexasFlorida, is one hell of a drug (take me to)
Florida, can I use you up?
Florida, is one hell of a drug
Florida, go on, fuck me up
Some studio action with Florence:
“Guilty as Sin?”
What a sexy way to get into the back and forth of should I do this again? I’m gonna do this again. Wait, is this all in my head? Maybe, but maybe not. Fuck, it’s gonna be a mess but I want it so badly.
At least that’s what I took from this one, what about you????????
What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh
Only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh what a way to die
My bedsheets are ablaze
I've screamed his name
Building up like waves
Crashing over my grave
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?What if I roll the stone away?
They're gonna crucify me anyway
What if the way you hold me
Is actually what's holy?
If long suffering propriety
Is what they want from me
They don't know how you've haunted me
So stunningly
I choose you and me
... Religiously
FYI:
“Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”17
I love Taylor standing in her (earned) power. To me, this is absolutely a song about fame/Hollywood/the music industry, etc. I get really fired up when people think she (or anyone) isn’t allowed to be pissed about something because she is rich/successful/beautiful/insert a million other things here. Or that she isn’t allowed to take pride in or stake claim in the paths she forged.
There’s always a caveat, especially for women. The removal of our teeth starts early.
That girl came into the industry as a very young person, a kid. She’s seen some SHIT. Things most of us couldn’t even imagine. She’s allowed to comment on that.
To me, she’s saying once more, “The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you?” But not to one man in particular. She also knows the answer.
And …oh, look, the writer is using metaphors again.
… The who's who of who's that?
Is poised for the attack
But my bare hands paved their paths
You don't get to tell me about sad… If you wanted me dead, you should've just said
Nothing makes me feel more alive… So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream
Who's afraid of little old me?
You should be… The scandal was contained
The bullet had just grazed
At all costs, keep your good name
You don't get to tell me you feel bad… Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke
Then we could all just laugh until I cry… So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream
Who's afraid of little old me?
I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean
Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth
Who's afraid of little old me?… Well, you should be (you should be)
You should be (you should be)
You should be
You should be (you should be)
You should be (you should be)
You should be… So tell me everything is not about me
But what if it is?
Then say they didn't do it to hurt me
But what if they did?… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me
You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me
So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs
I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all say?… That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn
That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong
Putting narcotics into all of my songs
And that's why you're still singing along… So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream
Who's afraid of little old me?
I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean
Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth
Who's afraid of little old me?… Well, you should be (you should be)
You should be (you should be)
You should be
'Cause you lured me (you should be)
And you hurt me (you should be)
And you taught me… You caged me and then you called me crazy
I am what I am 'cause you trained me
So who's afraid of me?
Who's afraid of little old me?
Who's afraid of little old me?
I feel so much of this applies to us normies out here, as well. I don’t see this as Taylor playing the victim card. I see it as her saying, I had to become this way to survive and thrive—and now you’re pissed about that too? Great.
We are seeing this happen to her again right now. We do this to artists all the time, especially the women. I know that her journey is different than someone’s who doesn’t look like her, but that doesn’t invalidate all of her experiences.
I certainly don’t agree with every single thing this woman has done. But even if you hate her, can you honestly not see any validity in what she has to say?
As for “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me,” Swift revealed that she wrote the tune “alone, sitting at the piano in one of those moments when I felt bitter about just all the things we do to our artists as a society and as a culture.”
“There’s a lot about this particular concept on The Tortured Poets Department. What do we do to our writers, and our artists, and our creatives? We put them through hell. We watch what they create, then we judge it. We love to watch artists in pain, often to the point where I think sometimes as a society we provoke that pain and we just watch what happens.”
You know who loves this song? Sophie Turner. And that tracks.
My god, what happened to people’s thinking skills?
“I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)”
I mean, if you’re still reading, you know how I feel about this one based on the title alone. The parallel to the line, “Once I fix me, he’s gonna miss me” isn’t lost on me.
I’m not sure I know a single person who hasn’t changed themselves in ways big and small to try to make a relationship work, even if it’s just a one-night stand. The way this album is like “Learning About How Eldest Daughters Born in 1973-1994(ish) Approach Much of Life”. I can’t.
The smoke cloud billows out his mouth
Like a freight train through a small town
The jokes that he told across the bar
Were revolting and far too loudThey shake their heads saying, "God help her"
When I tell them he's my man
But your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really I can
And only I canThe dopamine races through his brain
On a six lane Texas highway
His hands, so calloused from his pistol
Softly traces hearts on my faceAnd I could see it from a mile away
A perfect case for my certain skillset
He had a halo of the highest grade
He just hadn't met me yet
“loml”
What the fuck, Taylor? How did you get inside the deepest recesses of my brain cells? What sorcery is this and can you teach it me?
This song and these words are everything I never knew I needed. Because the thing is, as much as I wish it weren’t true, it does feel like My Matty™ is the loss of my life. And I know I’m neither the love or the loss of his.
Fuck.
That’s not to say that I am not a happy, thriving person. But that relationship changed me forever and is at the core of why I have been an extremely single person for a an extremely long time. That’s not on him. That’s on me. It’s true all the same.
To quote a song not on this album: “This is the first time I've felt the need to confess…” To myself. I’d never fully confessed it to myself.
The whole damn song. How dare she? But also thank you, Taylor. Thank you so much.
If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary
Who's gonna stop us from waltzing
Back into rekindled flames?
If we know the steps anyway
We embroidered the memories
Of the time I was away
Stitching, "We were just kids, babe"
I said, "I don't mind, it takes time"
I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed
I felt aglow like this
Never before and never sinceIf you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary
You and I go from one kiss to getting married
Still alive, killing time at the cemetery
Never quite buried
In your suit and tie, in the nick of time
You lowdown boy, you stand up guy
Holy Ghost, you told me I'm
The love of your lifeYou said I'm the love of your life
About a million timesWho's gonna tell me the truth
When you blew in with the winds of fate?
And told me I reformed you
When your impressionist paintings of Heaven
Turned out to be fakes
Well, you took me to hell, too
And all at once, the ink bleeds
A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme
But I felt a hole like this
Never before, and ever sinceIf you know it in one glimpse
It's legendary
What we thought was for all time
Was momentary
Still alive, killing time at the cemetery
Never quite buried
You cinephile in black and white
All those plot twists and dynamite
Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry
You said I'm the love of your lifeYou shit-talked me under the table
Talking rings and talking cradles
I wish I could un-recall
How we almost had it all
Dancing phantoms on the terrace
Are they second-hand embarrassedThat I can't get out of bed?
'Cause something counterfeit's dead
It was legendary
It was momentary
It was unnecessary
Should've let it stay buriedOh, what a valiant roar
What a bland goodbye
The coward claimed he was a lion
I'm combing through the braids of lies
I'll never leave, never mind
Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire
Your arson's match your somber eyes
And I'll still see it until I die
You're the loss of my life
TTPD (Abby’s Version) Voice Note #3
“I Can Do It With a Broken Heart”
Dance break, but make it heartbreaking!
This is a certified bop of the emotionally devastating (and devastated) variety. My favorite kind.
If you listen to this song and don’t think she and Jack are winking at the bubblegum boppiness of the production and you don’t realize it’s rife with sarcasm, I don’t know what to tell you.
I think this song is not just about the Eras Tour, but her whole career and life.
It’s also DEEPLY eldest daughter coded.
I can read your mind
She's having the time of her life
There in her glittering prime
The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night
I can show you lies (one, two, three)'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit
They said, baby, gotta fake it 'til you make it and I did
Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die
He said he'd love me all his life
But that life was too short
Breaking down, I hit the floor
All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More"
I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks
'Cause I can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day
I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague
I cry a lot but I am so productive, it's an art
You know you're good when you can even do it
With a broken heartI can hold my breath
I've doing it since he left
I keep finding his things in drawers
Crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing
I'm sure I can pass this test (one, two, thee)'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit
They said, baby, gotta fake it 'til you make it and I did
Lights, camera, bitch smile, in stilettos for miles
He said he'd love me for all time
But that time was quite short
Breaking down, I hit the floor
All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More"
I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks
'Cause I can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day
I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague (he avoids me)
I cry a lot but I am so productive, it's an art
You know you're good when you can even do it
With a broken heartYou know you're good when you can even do it
With a broken heart
You know you're good, I'm good
'Cause I'm miserable
And no one even knows
Try to come for my job
Like this is truly gut-wrenching and a great reminder that all these artists we love are fucking human beings.
“I’m miserable! And nobody even knows… try to come for my job”
It made me think of that scene from Katy Perry’s doc that makes ME fall apart every time.
Regardless, this song is going to go hard live.
Let us dance and cry. It is the Swiftian way.
(And, no, I have no fucking clue what she has planned for tour when it restarts in May and how TTPD fits in18—or not. I do know that I’d like to win the lottery so I can fly all my people to Paris for that show. Yes, on jets. Sue me.)
Meanwhile, I’m so excited for the TTPD dance party on Friday night at The Vogue . LMK if you’re local and going and haven’t already told me.
I also love all the edits I’m getting on my FYP to this song.
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“The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived”
Oooooooooohhhhhhh my fucking god.
What. A. Diss. Track. Her most lethal pen yet. This one’s for all of our Mattys, guys. All of them.
I love that it opens with a deep sigh, because YES.
I’ll just let these words speak for themselves because Jesus Christ. There’s nothing more I need to say. I would love to know what Matty’s mom, Denise Welch19, thinks. And maybe his current girlfriend, Gabbriette, too.
Was any of it true?
You gazing at me starry eyed
In your Jehovah's Witness suit
Who the fuck was that guy?You tried to buy some pills
From a friend of friends of mine
They just ghosted you
Now you know what it feels likeAnd I don't even want you back, I just want to know
If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal?
And I don't miss what we had but could someone give
A message to the smallest man who ever livedYou hung me on your wall
Stabbed me with your push-pins
In public showed me off
Then sank in stoned oblivion'Cause once your queen had come
You treat her like an also-ran
You didn't measure up
In any measure of a manAnd I don't even want you back, I just want to know
If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal?
And I don't miss what we had but could someone give
A message to the smallest man who ever livedWere you sent by someone who wanted me dead?
Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?
Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper-cell spy?
In fifty years will all this be declassified?
And you'll confess why you did it
And I'll say good riddance
'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbiddenI would've died for your sins
Instead I just died inside
And you deserve prison but you won't get time
You'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bars
You crashed my party in your rental car
You said normal girls were boring
But you were gone by the morning
You kicked out the stage lights
But you're still performing
And in plain sight you hid
But you are what you did
And I'll forget you but I'll never forgive
The smallest man who ever lived
I had the album on shuffle the other day and it went from this right into Kacey’s “Space Cowboy”. I immediately burst into a hard, hard cry. Like, that is too much for anyone to handle, let alone me.
“The Alchemy”
I have to say, this might be near the bottom of my list for this album—and NOT because it’s (likely, to my mind) a Travis song. I love that she’s happy. I dooooooooooo!
This did make me laugh though.
I just don’t connect with it sonically as much as I do others and lyrically, it’s a bit simple by comparison. Or is it because My Matty™ once tried to mansplain The Alchemist to me? Who can say…
This happens once every few lifetimes
These chemicals hit me like white wineWhat if I told you I'm back?
The hospital was a drag
Worst sleep that I ever had
I circled you on a map
I haven't come around in so long
But I'm coming back so strongSo when I touch down
Call the amateurs and
Cut 'em from the team
Ditch the clowns, get the crown
Baby I'm the one to beat
Cause the sign on your heart
Said it's still reserved for me
Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?Hey you, what if I told you we're cool?
That child's play back in school
Is forgiven under my rule
I haven't come around in so long
But I'm making a comeback to where I belong ...
I think I would have loved to see a version of this written by her and Aaron. I am by no means a person who thinks the partnership with Jack should be over, as I said earlier, but I am more of a Dessner girlie at my core.
What a gem that man is.
“Clara Bow”
This was where we thought the album ended—knowing there were four bonus tracks still coming. Each was on a vinyl variant and then the assumption was at some point they would come to streaming. L O L.
Anyway, it’s really haunting and lovely and another rumination on what the industry does by putting women in category boxes like “you’re the next….”
But general society does that too, in so many ways. To all of us.
Here’s what Taylor had to say about the song in her Amazon Music snippet:
“I used to sit in record labels trying to get a record deal when I was a little kid. And they’d say, ‘You know, you remind us of’ and then they’d name an artist, and then they’d kind of say something disparaging about her, ‘but you’re this, you’re so much better in this way or that way.’ And that’s how we teach women to see themselves, as like you could be the new replacement for this woman who’s done something great before you. I picked women who have done great things in the past and have been these archetypes of greatness in the entertainment industry. Clara Bow was the first ‘it girl.’ Stevie Nicks is an icon and an incredible example for anyone who wants to write songs and make music.”
Of course, Clara Bow was essentially the first It Girl (Silent Film Era Edition). And we all know who Stevie Nicks is, but I love seeing her here again. It felt fitting to begin and end with her, in a way. Well, until 2 am when we got another album.
You look like Clara Bow in this light
Remarkable
All your life, did you know
You'd be picked like a rose""I'm not trying to exaggerate
But I think I might die if it happened
Die if it happened to me
No one in my small town thought
I'd see the lights of Manhattan""This town is fake but
You're the real thing
Breath of fresh air through smoke rings
Take the glory, give everything
Promise to be dazzling""You look like Stevie Nicks
In '75, the hair and lips
Crowd goes wild at her fingertips
Half moonshine, a full eclipse"
"I'm not trying to exaggerate
But I think I might die if I made it,
Die if I made it
No one in my small town
Thought I'd meet these suits in LA,
They all want to say ...""This town is fake but
You're the real thing
Breath of fresh air through smoke rings
Take the glory, give everything
Promise to be dazzling""The crown is stained but you're the real queen
Flesh and blood amongst war machines
You're the new god we're worshipping
Promise to be ... dazzling"Beauty is a beast that roars
Down on all fours
Demanding "more"
Only when your girlish glow
Flickers just so
Do they let you know
It's hell on earth to be heavenly
Them's the breaks
They don't come gently"You look like Taylor Swift
In this light
We're loving it.
You've got edge she never did
The future's bright... Dazzling."
“The Black Dog”
The second half of this album took me the fuck OUT from the first play and it’s been revealing itself to me in new ways every day. The entire 31 songs are, but man this last 15 was a direct hit.
It was one of the best nights of my life.
I woke up Saturday morning in a very Black Dog space.
Lo and behold, she arrived later that day.
This is perhaps one of my favorite Taylor songs ever. It’s so fucking beautiful and steeped in nostalgic sadness, which is a place I love to hang.
It’s lyrically insane too—and all her. She’s the only credited writer here. This song feels like the exact way I’d tell the story, even melodically. Also, this was a thing that was happening to me the first night and it was freaking me out (in a cool way).
The way she plays with the “turn it off” idea is perfect.
The way “understand” cracks her voice almost ended me.
“Intertwined in the magic fabric of our dreaming” is one of the most gorgeous phrases she’s ever penned. Then to follow it with an aching “old habits die screaming”? And at the end, “the tragic fabric of our dreaming?” Goodbye.
I am someone who, until recent events
You shared your secrets with
And your location
You forgot to turn it off
And so I watch as you walk
Into some bar called The Black Dog
And pierce new holes in my heart
You forgot to turn it off
And it hits me
I just don't understandHow you don't miss me
In The Black Dog
When someone plays The Starting Line and you jump up
But she's too young to know this song
That was intertwined in the magic fabric of our dreaming
Old habits die screamingI move through the world with the heartbroken
My longings stay unspoken
And I may never open up the way I did for you
And all of those best laid plans
You said I needed a brave man
Then proceeded to play him
Until I believed it too
And it kills me
I just don't understandHow you don't miss me
In the shower
And remember
How my rain-soaked body was shaking
Do you hate me?
Was it hazing?
For a cruel fraternity I pledged
And I still mean it
Old habits die screamingSix weeks of breathing clean air
I still miss the smoke
Were you making fun of me with some esoteric joke?
Now I want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes
And hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons
Even if I die screaming
And I hope you hear itAnd I hope it's shitty
In The Black Dog
When someone plays The Starting Line and you jump up
But she's too young to know this song
That was intertwined in the tragic fabric of our dreaming
'Cause tail between your legs you're leaving
And I still can't believe it
'Cause old habits die screaming
Yay for The Starting Line. I hope your streams are STREAMING. This is a lovely lil note.
“imgonnagetyouback”
The opening instrumentals sound like they have to be intentionally nodding to The 197520. Also, for the record, anyone online acting like the concept of “getting someone back” or that phrase in general belongs to anyone specific is out of their mind.
This is a nice ditty to me. It hasn’t yet burrowed into my soul, but that doesn’t mean it won’t one day.
Lilac short skirt
The one that fits me like skin
Did your research
You knew the price goin' inAnd I'll tell you one thing, honey
I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean
Standing at the bar like something's funny, bubbly
Once you fix your face, I'm goin' inWhether I'm gonna be your wife or
Gonna smash up your bike, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you backWhether I'm gonna curse you out or
Take you back to my house, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you backI, I hear the whispers in your eyes
I'll make you wanna think twice
You'll find that you were never not mine
You're mine
Is this the lilac skirt21?
Or this ice skater special, which I realize is tech a dress?
“The Albatross”
We’ve got a straight-up Coleridge callout with this one and again I was shocked at how many people online were like, “This is what an albatross symbolizes, omg who knew?”
That’s not even English major shit at this point, y’all. It made me so sad. It’s not like that’s a deep literary cut.
Oh how I love that “rose by any other name is a scandal” moment. DELISH.
This just feels like a Swift/Dessner special in all the right ways.
Wise men once said
"Wild winds are death to the candle"
A rose by any other name is a scandal
Cautions issued, he stood
Shooting the messengers
They tried to warn him about herCross your thoughtless heart
Only liquor anoints you
She's the albatross
She is here to destroy youWise men once said
"One bad seed kills the garden"
"One less temptress
One less dagger to sharpen"
Locked me up in towers
But I'd visit in your dreams
And they tried to warn you about meCross your thoughtless heart
Only liquor anoints you
She's the albatross
She is here to destroy you
Devils that you know
Raise worse hell than a stranger
She's the death you chose
You're in terrible dangerAnd when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata
I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it mattersWise men once read fake news
And they believed it
Jackals raised their hackles
You couldn't conceive it
You were sleeping soundly
When they dragged you from your bed
And I tried to warn you about themSo I crossed my thoughtless heart
Spread my wings like a parachute
I'm the albatross
I swept in at the rescue
The devil that you know
Looks now more like an angel
I'm the life you chose
And all this terrible dangerSo cross your thoughtless heart
She's the albatross
She is here to destroy you
“Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus”
This was an instant YESSSSSS for me on listen #1 and I feel like it’s not getting talked about as much as it should be. But, yes, there are 31 songs…I understand the situation.
I wish I would have kept taking piano lessons back when I was kid. That’s for sure.
The idea of someone being able to break you by saying, “I always wondered about you and you were great how you were,” when you know you changed to be what you thought he wanted. UGHHHHHH.
Or, for me, it conjured up memories of the way I felt like such a loser in high school because I didn’t have boyfriends (LOW! UNWORTHY! UGLY!) and later having someone tell me, “I was intimidated” or that one whose name I would never share who drunkenly told me one night in our 20s, “You will always be the one I wonder about, the one who got away because I didn’t try.”
I had crushed on him MADLY and was friend-zoned ALWAYS.
Gut? Punched.
Taylor weaves a perfect and beautiful story so seamlessly with these lyrics. It’s stunning and, to me, a writing masterclass. This song isn’t for dummies. Hmmm, maybe that’s why it’s a bit under the radar right now.
Your hologram stumbled into my apartment
Hands in the hair of somebody in darkness named Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
And I just watched it happen
As the decade would play us for fools
And you saw my bones out with somebody new
Who seemed like he would've bullied you in school
And you just watched it happenIf you want to break my cold, cold heart
Just say, 'I loved you the way that you were'
If you want to tear my world apart
Just say you've always wonderedYou said some things that I can't unabsorb
You turned me into an idea of sorts
You needed me but you needed drugs more
And I couldn't watch it happen
I changed into goddesses, villains and fools
Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules
All to outrun my desertion of you
And you just watched itIf you want to break my cold, cold heart
Just say, 'I loved you the way that you were'
If you want to tear my world apart
Just say you've always wonderedIf the glint in my eye traced the depths of your sigh
Down that passage in time
Back to the moment I crashed into you
Like so many wrecks do
Too impaired by my youth
To know what to doSo if I sell my apartment
And you have some kids with an internet starlet22
Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon
Like it never happened
Could it be enough to just float in your orbit
Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses
Cooler in theory but not if you force it
To be, it just didn't happenSo if you want to break my cold, cold heart
Say you loved me
And if you want to tear my world apart
Say you'll always wonderCause I wonder
Will I always
Will I always wonder?
“How Did It End?”
Some might take this as a second Track 5 on the Anthology and I think there’s a fair analysis to be made through that lens.
It’s wildly sad, that’s for damn sure. By this point on the first album listen, I was basically just sobbing straight through from earlier songs. I do love it loads, but how to know where one emotion ends and another begins at this point.
We finally landed on our Apple Music hidden word phrase, just 21 songs in. Oh, our tricksy Blondie.
We hereby conduct this post-mortem
He was a hot house flower to my outdoorsmen
Our maladies were such we could not cure them
And so a touch that was my birthright became foreignCome one, come all
It's happenin' again
The empathetic hunger descends
We'll tell no one
Except all of our friends
We must know
How did it end?We were blind to unforeseen circumstances
We learn the right steps to different dances
And fell victim to interlopers' glances
Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?
Soon they'll go home to their husbands
Smug 'cause they know they can trust him
Then feverishly calling their cousinsGuess who we ran into at the shops?
Walking in circles like she was lost
Didn't you hear?
They called it all off
One gasp and then
How did it end?Say it once again with feeling
How the death rattle breathing
Silenced as the soul was leaving
The deflation of our dreaming
Leaving me bereft and reeling
My beloved ghost and me
Sitting in a tree
D-Y-I-N-GIt's happening again
How did it end?
I can't pretend like I understand
How did it end?Come one, come all
It's happening again
The empathetic hunger descends
We'll tell no one
Except all of our friends
But I still don't know
How did it end?
The line, “We’ll tell no one except all of our friends” is so genius. I adore it.
It also makes me think of this conversation Tia and I had a million years ago. We were on a beauty press trip and I was finally admitting to people that My Matty™ and I were back together. That was hard. I felt like a failure somehow even though it was what I desperately wanted. The thing was, it was over once more real soon and I was MORTIFIED to then have to be like, “Welp it’s happened again.” On another press trip. Man, those were the days.
But of course, all my editor friends were kind and T made me laugh so hard by not missing a beat in saying, “And this is why we don’t talk about our relationships with the press.”
I legit think about that at least 3-5 times per quarter.
“So High School”
What a goddamn delight this song is from the first strums that sound like the Friday Night Lights theme song, which is one of the very best shows AND opening credits sequences/tunes of all time. It’s a never skip opener, even while watching 10 eps in a row.
But then the song bleeds into feeling like a bit of Juliana Hatfield meets Sixpence None the Richer and I felt as if I had transported back in time, too. To my high school days in the ‘90s.
Sidebar: I know the youths think they invented digging into stuff in this way, but they have NO idea about the Juliana Hatfield/Evan Dando tales. Actually, the place down the street where I went to a show last night is a venue where I saw Lemonheads up close and personal in high school. And also the site of my junior prom. And the last place I saw the ex do stand-up. So many mindfucks this week.
Love love love love love it all! Dessner and Swift do it again!
I feel so high school every time I look at you
I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from youAnd in a blink of a crinkling eye
I'm sinking, our fingers entwined
Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights
Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me
I'll drink what you think and I'm high
From smoking your jokes all damn night
The brink of a wrinkle in time
Bittersweet 16 suddenlyI'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night
Your friends are around, so be quiet
I'm trying to stifle my sighs
'Cause I feel so high school every time I look at you
But look at youAre you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? (Kill me)
It's just a game, but really (really)
I'm bettin' on all three for us two (all three)
Get my car door, isn't that sweet? (That sweet)
Then pull me to the backseat (backseat)
No one's ever had me (had me), not like youTruth, dare, spin bottles
You know how to ball, I know Aristotle
Brand new, full-throttle
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
It's true, swear, scouts honor
You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her
Brand new, full-throttle
You already know, babeI feel like laughing in the middle of practice
Do that impression you did of your dad again
I'm hearing voices like a madmanAnd in a blink of a crinkling eye
I'm sinking, our fingers entwined
Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights
Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me
I'll drink what you think and I'm high
From smoking your jokes all damn night
The brink of a wrinkle in time
Bittersweet 16 suddenlyI'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night
Your friends are around, so be quiet
I'm trying to stifle my sighs
'Cause I feel so high school (I feel so high school)
Every time I look at you
But look at youTruth, dare, spin bottles (yeah)
You know how to ball, I know Aristotle
Brand new, full-throttle (yeah)
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
It's true, swear, scouts honor (yeah)
You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her
Brand new, full-throttle (yeah)
You already know, babe
You already know, babe
Now, as anyone who’s been here since the fall knows, I am very much not a Travis person and that predates him and Taylor ever meeting. BUT that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the appeal of a Trav. It’s just very much not what does it for me, mixed with other irks I’ve always had about him and his family. Plus, I’m a Colts fan. Fuck the Chiefs and their dumb dynasty that I’m def jealous of.
This song is exactly how I think things go at his house, right down to watching American Pie all the time and a bunch of dudes always around playing video games. I do understand how that is fun and a reprieve from the exhaustion of the Mattys of the world. I really, really do. And I love that it’s giving Good Wattpad Smut (Taylor’s Version).
It doesn’t matter what I think anyway and I love that she is in this very happy place.
Now, if one of my friends was coming off this level of pain from two relationships and diving into something that feels “so high school” in a dizzying way such as this, I would maybe have some notes or doubts about the staying power of the whole thing.
But what do I know?
Maybe a simpler situation is what I needed (slash still need). Someone who is like, I want you. I think you’re awesome. I’m fucking great with my hands, Scout’s Honor 🥵. I’m confident and really tall. I believe in science, even if I don’t understand it. But also my bros are always around.
I love that she’s all, cool yeah you’re sort of a dummy (“You know how to ball, I know Aristotle”) but I like the way you like me and how much fun I’m having and how you get me off and how you make me feel and laugh and that you’re really good at what you do, too.
I know there are certainly people who were pretty great that liked me a whole lot and I would find something wrong or get the ick (before we called it the ick) or fuck it up because a certain someone decided to call or send a text. I have a lot of regrets about that.
Then at some point, I just decided to put up the highest of walls. Take myself fully out the game. Because you can’t ever get hurt like that again if you never have relationships or even fucking date.
Those are the long-lasting effects that I haven’t always wanted to admit—and the deepest self-inflicted wound. I’m not even sugar-coating when I say that I have no interest in a partner at this moment. I’m so good solo. I’m really happy (even if this post suggests otherwise). Now. But that wasn’t always the case, even if I pretended like it was.
Something I really, really admire about Taylor is that she leaves that heart wide fucking open, even after tremendous pain. That’s such a hard thing to do, especially when you’re a person who feels things so, so deep inside and for so, so long.
Maybe I should have been looking for a not quite so jock-y, able to spell squirrel, but was less complicated than my usual sorta dude way back when. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, right?
Anyhoooooooooooooo….
It feels like I can’t not put this clip here.
“I Hate It Here”
This song feels like it’s a cousin that lives in the town over from Folklore—and that’s a good thing.
To me, it fits with that particular storytelling energy while looking back on a precocious childhood that involved a lot of diving into other worlds (for her in this case, The Secret Garden) to escape—and then seeking a way to do that as a grownup in a different kind of pain.
Quick, quick
Tell me something awful
Like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy
Tell me all your secrets
All you'll ever be is
My eternal consolation prizeYou see I was a debutante in another life but
Now I seem to be scared to go outside
If comfort is a construct
I don't believe in good luck
Now that I know what's whatI hate it here so I will go to
Secret gardens in my mind
People need a key to get to
The only one is mine
I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child
No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears
I'm there most of the year
Cause I hate it here
I hate it hereMy friends used to play a game where
We would pick a decade
We wished we could live in instead of this
I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists and getting married off for the highest bidEveryone would look down
Cause it wasn't fun now
Seems like it was never even fun back then
Nostalgia is a mind's trick
If I'd been there, I'd hate it
It was freezing in the palaceI hate it here so I will go to
Lunar valleys in my mind
When they found a better planet
Only the gentle survived
I dreamed about it in the dark
The night I felt like I might die
No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears
I'm there most of the year
Cause I hate it here
I hate it hereI'm lonely but I'm good
I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine
I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life and I'll get lost on purpose
This place made me feel worthless
Lucid dreams like electricity, the current flies through me,
And in my fantasies I rise above it
And way up there, I actually love itI hate it here so I will go to
Secret gardens in my mind
People need a key to get to
The only one is mine
I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child
No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears
I'm there most of the year
Cause I hate it here
I hate it here
I’ll leave this here and say that I didn’t get crazy deep in the conversations about the 1830s lyric. It’s extremely fair to say that that’s because I can avoid them if I want, given I’m a white Swiftie. I’ll absolutely take that if it’s a note someone has for me.
But I also did not read the line in a way that I found offensive. What I think of the lyrics doesn’t negate others’ feelings. Again, that could be based on my own life experience—and good faith critiques of any artist or lyric should always be welcomed in the discourse.
But that’s not typically how it goes on the internet these days—or at least what gets pumped into the feeds and stories.
Those prickly issues of reading comprehension and media literacy and just how passionately people feel about Taylor Swift (love or hate) really came together here.
What I do know for sure is that I saw too many people piling on before doing a modicum of research or even listening to the whole song/reading all the lyrics together. And that’s what I have a problem with. At the very least, one must not judge a single line without context. Then if you have things to say, SAY THEM! I want to read or watch those.
Taylor doesn’t need my defense, but literacy sure does.
“thanK you aIMee”
I love when Taylor is petty and funny. So much. Especially as a person who has rarely let go of anything and still feels past pain acutely and physically. Um, as I think I’ve stated the case for here today.
It’s about Kim Kardashian. Allegedly (lol). As evidenced by the capitalized letters in the song title, a common Taylor way to send a message. I just know Northie has been calling her mother Aimee all week—and might until the end of time.
For those who aren’t as familiar, the short story is that back in 2016 when Kimye was still a power couple, Kanye recorded his song “Famous” which has the lyric:
I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex
Why? I made that bitch famous
I made that bitch famous
This is referencing when he got up on stage and interrupted her acceptance speech at the VMAs when she was 19.
There was also a music video with a naked Taylor mannequin (and other famous people) in bed with Kanye.
He says he called her for approval on the song and that she thought it was funny, she comes back (through Tree) with …
Kanye did not call for approval, but to ask Taylor to release his single 'Famous' on her Twitter account. She declined and cautioned him about releasing a song with such a strong misogynistic message. Taylor was never made aware of the actual lyric, "I made that bitch famous.'
Kim jumped in that summer via a GQ interview and was like, no Taylor’s lying. Kanye did it right and he always gets shit on. She said they had the conversation recorded and then not long after drops clips on her Snapchat and the snake emoji enters the chat.
Taylor is still like NO. He didn’t clear calling me a bitch. We get the famous “excluded from this narrative” line.
The world fucking turns on Taylor. Hard. You should watch Miss Americana to see how deep that went and I don’t think any of us have the right to tell someone when they have to get over something. Not for nothing, but Kim was older than Taylor is now when she dropped those videos, so save me the arguments about age that didn’t really hold up anyway.
I’m older than both of them and if I’m pissed about something someone did to me (or one of my people), I still reserve the right to be as petty and cunty as I want to be.
Taylor really thought she was done in any way that she’d existed as an artist before. We don’t get to tell her how she felt, whether we believe it was valid or not. So she disappeared…
In 2017 she reclaims the snake emoji as she starts teasing what we now know was Reputation. Lead single: “Look What You Made Me Do”, with a direct reference to the “tilted stage” of Mr. West’s tour.
In March 2020, an unedited version of the call is leaked and it proves that Taylor was not lying about the “bitch” line. The other clips didn’t show the whole thing.
A million other moments have happened in this saga, which you can Google if you’re looking to get more detailed. Explainers abound online.
Needless to say, Taylor’s still pissed and I am here for it. Sweet Andrea (her mom) must be too! Everyone knows I’m not a Kim hater either, aside of this shit.
Petty T, never change. I know others feel differently. I don’t fucking care.
I also think that there is a lot in here from Taylor’s own experience as a kid and how left out and bullied she often felt. That shit never leaves you. It’s core trauma and, again, I know she looks like a popular girl looks…but when you’re weird and writing songs in calligraphy with quill pens or whatever in middle school and trying to get a record deal and thinking on a level unlike your peers? Yeah, that doesn’t make you popular and there’s a whole Swift sub-genre of songs that touch on this pain in her.
But she now has enough perspective to realize that this all helped build her legacy too. Lyrically and songwriting-wise. But also, in healing herself.
When I picture my hometown
There's a bronze spray-tanned statue of you
And a plaque underneath it
That threatens to push me down the stairs at our schoolAnd it was always the same searing pain
But I dreamed that one day, I could sayAll that time you were throwing punches
I was building something
And I can't forgive the way you made me feel
Screamed "Fuck you, Aimee" to the night sky
As the blood was gushing
But I can't forget the way you made me healAnd it wasn't a fair fight, or a clean kill
Each time that Aimee stomped across my grave
And then she wrote headlines in the local paper
Laughing at each baby step I'd takeAnd it was always the same searing pain
But I prayed that one day, I could sayAll that time you were throwing punches
I was building something
And I couldn't wait to show you it was real
Screamed "Fuck you, Aimee" to the night sky
As the blood was gushing
But I can't forget the way you made me healEveryone knows that my mother is a saintly woman
But she used to say she wished that you were dead
I pushed each boulder up the hill
Your words are still just ringing in my head, ringing in my headI wrote a thousand songs that you find uncool
I built a legacy which you can't undo
But when I count the scars, there's a moment of truth
That there wouldn't be this, if there hadn't been youAnd maybe you've reframed it
And in your mind, you never beat my spirit black and blue
I don't think you've changed much
And so I changed your name and any real defining clues
And one day, your kid comes home singing
A song that only us two is gonna know is about you 'causeAll that time you were throwing punches
It was all for nothing
And our town, it looks so small, from way up here
Screamed "Thank you, Aimee" to the night sky
And the stars are stunning
'Cause I can't forget the way you made me healEveryone knows that my mother is a saintly woman
But she used to say she wished that you were dead
So I pushed each boulder up that hill
Your words were still just ringing in my head, ringing in my headThank you, Aimee
Thank you, Aimee
Obviously, this song started a whole lot of conversation.
I bet Kris is so annoyed. She tried to shut this down years ago. You know she’s been trying to get Tree on the line…
The content was flowing from the jump.
“I Look In People’s Windows”
Well, it sure fucking feels like you’ve been looking in mine, Blondie.
I haven’t formed an insane attachment to this song yet, but I will now carry the line, “I'm addicted to the 'if only'“ in my soul forever.
I had died the tiniest death
I spied the catch in your breath
Out, out, out, out, out, out
North bound I got carried away
As you boarded your train
South, south, south, south, south, south
A feather taken by the wind blowing
I'm afflicted by the not knowing soI look in people's windows
Transfixed by rose golden glows
They have their friends over to drink nice wine
I look in people's windows
In case you're at their table
What if your eyes looked up and met mine
One more timeYou had stopped and tilted your head
I still ponder what it meant now, now
Now, now, now, now
I tried searching faces on streets
What are the chances you'd be downtown
Downtown, downtown
Does it feel alright to not know me?
I'm addicted to the 'if only'So I look in people's windows
Like I'm some deranged weirdo
I attend Christmas parties from outside
I look in people's windows
In case you're at their table
What if your eyes looked up and met mine
One more time
“The Prophecy”
Byeeeeeeeeee. Ugh, this one really broke me. Hard. It feels like a sister from another mother to Kacey’s “The Architect”, which was already so much to take on emotionally.
These. Words. My. God.
Hand on the throttle
Thought I caught lightning in a bottle
Oh, but it's gone again
And it was written
I got cursed like Eve got bitten
Oh, was it punishment?Pad around when I get home
I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope
A greater woman wouldn't beg
But I looked to the sky and saidPlease
I've been on my knees
Change the prophecy
Don't want money
Just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo
The prophecy?Cards on the table
Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh
It was sinking in
Slow is the quicksand
Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand
Oh, still I dream of himPlease
I've been on my knees
Change the prophecy
Don't want money
Just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo
The prophecy?And I sound like an infant
Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen
A greater woman stays cool
But I howl like a wolf at the moon
And I look unstable
Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table
A greater woman has faith
But even statues crumble if they're made to wait
I'm so afraid I sealed my fate
No sign of soulmates
I'm just a paperweight
In shades of greige
Spending my last coin so someone will tell me
It'll be okPlease
I've been on my knees
Change the prophecy
Don't want money
Just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo
The prophecy?Who do I have to speak to
To change the prophecy?Hand on the throttle
Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh
But it's gone againPad around when I get home
I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope
A greater woman wouldn't beg
But I looked to the sky and said
Please
How how how how is it this insightful about a certain kind of person?
Me, I’m the kind of person.
“Cassandra”
Hellllllllllo, mythology. I’m so glad you’re here.
Cassandra is the princess of Troy—daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba. You may also be familiar with her big brother, Hector.
I have been obsessed with the story of Cassandra since I first learned it, I think in middle school. I have a real thing for the Greek myths and ancient plays23.
The story basically goes that the god Apollo was enamored of Cassandra for her intellect and beauty. To win her over, he gifted her the ability to see the future. She promised him favors, but then didn’t follow through. He got pissed and cursed her so that nobody would ever believe her predictions and prophesies.
Do I need to explain any further about why Taylor Swift might connect to this mythological woman?
You could also make a link to all the Kim/Kanye feud stuff here, if you so choose. Or Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta and the ordeal of the masters. Or the mean girls who left her out in “The Best Day”.
I think it’s a larger narrative being explored here and not one singular moment.
I was in my new house placing daydreams
Patching up the crack along the wall
I pass it and lose track of what I'm saying
'Cause that's where I was when I got the callWhen the first stone's thrown, they're screaming
In the streets, there's a raging riot
When it's "Burn the bitch, " they're shrieking
When the truth comes out, it's quietSo, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst
And tried to tell the town
So, they filled my cell with snakes, I regret to say
Do you believe me now?I was in my tower weaving nightmares
Twisting all my smiles into snarls
They say, "What doesn't kill you makes you aware"
What happens if it becomes who you are?So, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst
And tried to tell the town
So, they set my life in flames, I regret to say
Do you believe me now?They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time
That I was onto something
The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line
They all said nothing
Blood's thick but nothing like a payroll
Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul
You can mark my words that I said it first
In a morning warning, no one heardI patched up the crack along the wall
I pass it and lose track of what I'm saying
'Cause that's where I was when I lost it allSo, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst
And tried to tell the town
So, they filled my cell with snakes, I regret to say
Do you believe me now?ahh-ahh
I was onto something
Ahh-ahh
They all said nothingBlood's thick but nothing like a payroll
Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul
You can mark my words that I said it first
In a morning warning, no one heard
No one heard
Not a single word was heardWhen the first stone's thrown, they're screaming
In the streets, there's a raging riot
When it's "Burn the bitch, " they're shrieking
When the truth comes out, it's quiet
It's so quiet
As always, I highly recommend Sarah @TaylorSwiftStyled on IG for insight into Taylor’s sartorial choices and their connections to lyrics and lore and past fashion choices.
This is a great Cassandra nugget that also shows just how good Sarah is at her job.
“Peter”
Taylor loves a Peter Pan reference. She always has. Lost Boys, “tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy”, not growing up, etc. I bet she sees parts of herself in all the characters.
I love the cadence of this song so very much. To me it gives that sense of the in-between that feels core to the meaning here. The waiting and hoping that dissolves into ohhhh, this isn’t going to work.
My favorite line and kinda why I decided to go all the fucking way in on this writing experiment for TTPD:
Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned
Forgive me Peter
My lost fearless leader
In closets like cedar
Preserved from when we were just kids
Is it something I did
The goddess of timing
Once found us beguiling
She said she was trying
Peter was she lying
My ribs get the feeling she did
And I didn't want to come down
I thought it was just goodbye for nowYou said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
You said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Words from the mouths of babes
Promises, oceans deep
But never to keep
Oh, never to keepAre you still a mind reader?
A natural scene stealer
I've heard great things Peter
But life was always easier on you
Than it was on me
And sometimes it gets me
When crossing your jet stream
We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon
In different galaxies
And I didn't want to hang around
We said it was just goodbye for nowYou said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
You said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Words from the mouths of babes
Promises, oceans deep
But never to keep
Oh, never to keepAnd I won't confess that I waited
But I let the lamp burn
As the men masqueraded
I hoped you'd return
With your feet on the ground
Tell me all that you'd learned
Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned
And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25
And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired
Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life
Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried
To hold onto the days when you were mine
But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the lightYou said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
You said you were gonna grow up
You said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Said you were gonna grow up
You said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
You said you were gonna grow up
Then you were gonna come find me
Words from the mouths of babes
Promises, oceans deep
But never to keep
Lest you wonder who might be involved in the inspo for this one, there is an old song by The 1975 when they were still named Drive Like I Do called…”Lost Boys”
“The Bolter”
I was The Bolter.
I still am, though I do move apartments less often now. I’m never not in protector of my emotions mode, mostly because they are SO big and that pain is so much that I just won’t let myself open in that way. I can’t control all the things that will make me sad in this life, but that one I can.
If you stay single, you don’t get made single.
I have moved so so so many times. Apartments in the city, sure. But like back and forth across the country on multiple occasions.
The first time I left NY for LA, I didn’t want to admit that I was running from My Matty™, but I was. Luckily, I got to cover it up with the early adopter casualty of YM shutting down and me losing my job as Beauty Director—and that lots of my closest entertainment friends had recently moved west, where my sister also lived.
I don’t know if anyone really believed me. Probably not. I do know we weren’t together, but I spent my last night in the city in his bed.
Then I moved back to NY then back to LA then back to NY and finally here to Indy. Those weren’t all about him by any stretch, just that first one. But I sure was bolting from other stuff every damn time, though less so with this last one. I talked about moving back to Indy for almost a year in therapy before I even told anyone I was considering it.
Guess what? This one really worked out. Your shit will find you wherever you run, but you can work on it and run differently in the future. Funny that, huh?
I definitely bolt emotionally, too. I let very few people in in in and I will cut bait so fast sometimes. I don’t love that about myself, but it’s true. When I’m leaving, it does feel like breathing. It’s like releasing a vulnerability valve….phew, you escaped having to let someone in yet again, kiddo. That isn’t just a romantic vibe. That’s an all people vibe.
Heart = safe. Allegedly.
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Every single word, emotion, and sentiment represented here feels ripped out of my own head.
By all accounts, she almost drowned
When she was six in frigid water
And I can confirm she made
A curious child, ever reviled
By everyone except her own father
With a quite bewitching face
Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless
Excellent fun 'til you get to know her
Then she runs like it's a race
Behind her back, her best mates laughed
And they nicknamed her "The Bolter"Started with a kiss
"Oh, we must stop meeting like this"
But it always ends up with a Town Car speeding
Out the drive one evening
Ended with the slam of a door
Then he'll call her a whore
Wish he wouldn't be sore
But as she was leaving
It felt like breathing
All her fuckin' lives
Flashed before her eyes
It feels like the time
She fell through the ice
Then came out aliveHe was a cad, wanted her bad
Just like any good trophy hunter
And she likes the way it tastes
Taming a bear, making him care
Watching him jump then pulling him under
And at first blush, this is fate
When it's all roses, portrait poses
Central Park Lake in tiny rowboats
What a charming Saturday
That's when she sees the littlest leaks
Down in the floorboards
And she just knows
She must boltStarted with a kiss
"Oh, we must stop meeting like this"
But it always ends up with a Town Car speeding
Out the drive one evening
Ended with the slam of a door
Then he'll call her a whore
Wish he wouldn't be sore
But as she was leaving
It felt like breathing
All her fuckin' lives
Flashed before her eyes
It feels like the time
She fell through the ice
Then came out aliveShe's been many places with
Men of many faces
First, they're off to the races
And she's laughing drawin' aces
But, none of it is changin'
That the chariot is waitin'
Hearts are hers for the breakin'
There's an escape in escapingStarted with a kiss
"Oh, we must stop meeting like this"
But it always ends up with a Town Car speeding
Out the drive one evening
Ended with the slam of a door
But she's got the best stories
You can be sure
That as she was leaving
It felt like freedom
All her fuckin' lives
Flashed before her eyes
(And she realized)
It feels like the time
She fell through the ice
Then came out alive
“Robin”
Welp, this feels tied in my mind to Kacey’s “The Cardinal”. Another bird, another beautiful song about those that are gone, another link to my mom.
Dead Moms Club, let’s circle up and hold hands and feel it all together.
Long may you reign
You're an animal
You are bloodthirsty
Out window panes talking utter nonsense
You have no ideaStrings tied to levers,
Slowed down clocks tethered,
All this showmanship
To keep it, for you,
In sweetness
Way to go tiger
Higher and higher
Wilder and lighter
For youLong may you roar
At your dinosaurs
You're a just ruler
Covered in mud, you look ridiculous
And you have no ideaBuried down deep and out of your reach, the secret we all vowed to keep it, from you,
In sweetness
Way to go tiger
Higher and higher
Wilder and lighter
For youYou got the dragonflies above your bed
You have a favorite spot on the swing set
You have no room in your dreams for regrets
You have no idea
The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean
You'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline
But now we'll curtail your curiosity
In sweetness
Way to go, Tiger
Higher and higher
Wilder and lighter
For you
Also…
“The Manuscript”
And we’ve reached our final song. It’s a doozy. Simple in sound, to great emotional effect. My friend Matt pointed out the hints of notes from “White Horse” which yes yes yes.
In that song, she sings:
'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale
I'm gonna find someone someday
Who might actually treat me well
This is a big world, that was a small town
There in my rearview mirror disappearing now
And it's too late for you and your white horse
Now it's too late for you and your white horse
To catch me now
“The Manuscript” feels like an amalgamation of many relationships and themes from Taylor’s past work, not even solely this album. Her conceit that sometimes moving backward (temporarily, to do the excavation and the work) is what is necessary to move forward makes a lot of sense in this brain of mine.
To me, this song is about a feeling. A space to occupy, not always an age.
But wowza, did I feel that lyric about wanting to be 30. It took me back to how much I wanted that then. The number that signaled “grownup here, take me seriously.” I longed to reach that age for the sake of my professional life too, as someone who got a pretty big role as a Beauty Director just as I turned 26.
What a line. My god. Direct hit.
He said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was
Soon they'd be pushin' strollers
But really, just all of it.
This is a simply stunning, heartbreaking way to end this anthology. Yet, it is also hopeful.
Now and then she rereads the manuscript
Of the entire torrid affair
They compared their licenses
He said, "I'm not a donor but
I'd give you my heart if you needed it"
She rolled her eyes and said
"You're a professional"
He said, "No, just a good samaritan"
He said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was
Soon they'd be pushin' strollers
But soon it was overIn the age of him, she wished she was thirty
And made coffee every morning in a French press
Afterwards she only ate kids' cereal
And couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed
Then she dated boys who were her own age
With dart boards on the backs of their doors
She thought about how he said since she was so wise beyond her years
Everything had been above board
She wasn't sureAnd the years passed
Like scenes of a show
The Professor said to write what you know
Lookin' backwards
Might be the only way to move forward
Then the actors
Were hitting their marks
And the slow dance
Was alight with the sparks
And the tears fell
In synchronicity with the score
And at last
She knew what the agony had been forThe only thing that's left is the manuscript
One last souvenir from my trip to your shores
Now and then I reread the manuscript
But the story isn't mine anymore
Maybe this insanely long thing I just wrote is my last souvenir from my trips to his shores. The professor DID say to “write what you know.”
I mentioned earlier that I recently found some remnants of that life I once lived. It had been many, many years since I’d seen them. There’s so much I got rid of from that time, in various phases of trying to get myself clean from him. And the fact that a NYC apartment has no space for excess baggage.
There were “letters” I wrote to him that were never meant to be sent. And a couple journal entries. I was a weirdly inconsistent journal-er through much of my life. Off brand, I know. It’s why I love to document things here or on my IG Stories or whatever now. If only just for me when I’m old and can’t remember or want to go back in time for a minute.
I understand why I was supposed to find them again now, as part of whatever shift has happened to me thanks to The Tortured Poets Department.
I had to reread the manuscript.
I want to give the sweet, hurting girl who wrote the words below a hug and tell her that she was pretty insightful for a youth. Even if she didn’t have the perspective to change yet. I’d also tell her she was going to stay this dramatic and hyperbolic forevermore. No amount of aging will remove that feature. And it is a feature, not a bug.
“I think at the end of the day, there’s a part of you that likes that I feel that way—that I need you that much…I have loved you since the first moment I met you. I think I may love you for the rest of my life—for good or for bad. So where does that leave me? As a rational person vs. an emotional one, you must see where I would feel lost. I don’t know what to do with you or about you. On one level, I know you love me, but at the same time I know just as strongly that you may never be able to express that love on a level that—much as I may deny it—I need. You are the only person I want, the only person I can ever imagine myself being with for an extended period of time. I may never understand you, but I will never not love you. In spite of all my better instincts. So what’s a girl to do?”
“I don’t know how to trust my emotions anymore. I trusted my heart and it was wrong. Or was it? I feel like I can’t give up, even though everyone is telling me I should. Even as I write these words, I feel like one day I’ll be reading them as we say our vows…I feel like you are the love of my life, is that so lame? Maybe it is. I thought with each passing day I would feel it less, but the opposite is true. Figure it out, you fuck. It’s me. Why can’t you see it?”
“I love him, please bring him back to me.”
And now the story’s not just mine anymore.
If you read even a fraction of this monster, thank you.
What a gift this album is to some of us and if you’re not one of those, maybe now you at least understand why and how someone could feel so passionately about this work Taylor shared with the world.
Also, can I just send this link out to anyone in the future who wants to get to know me slash how nuts it can be inside here? Perhaps.
I’ll let Taylor take us out.
xA
At this hearing
I stand before my fellow members
of the Tortured Poets Department
With a summary of my findings
A debrief, a detailed rewinding
For the purpose of warning
For the sake of reminding
As you might all unfortunately recall
I had been struck with a case
of a restricted humanity
Which explains my plea here today
of temporary insanity
You see, the pendulum swings
Oh, the chaos it brings
Leads the caged beast to do
the most curious things
Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated
Resentment rotting away
galaxies we created
Stars placed and glued
meticulously by hand
next to the ceiling fan
Tried wishing on comets.
Tried dimming the shine.
Tried to orbit his planet.
Some stars never align.
And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky
Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues
Then a crash from the skylight
Bursting through
Something old, someone hallowed,
who told me he could be brand new
And so I was out of the oven
And into the microwave
Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave
How gallant to save the empress
from her gilded tower
Swinging a sword he could barely lift
But loneliness struck at that fateful hour
Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips
He never even scratched the surface
of me.
None of them did.
“In summation, it was not a love affair!”
I screamed while bringing my fists
to my coffee ringed desk
It was a mutual manic phase.
It was self harm.
It was house and then cardiac arrest.
A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face
Because it’s the worst men that I write best.
And so I enter into evidence
My tarnished coat of arms
My muses, acquired like bruises
My talismans and charms
The tick, tick, tick of love bombs
My veins of pitch black ink
All’s fair in love and poetry
Sincerely,
The Chairman
of The Tortured Poets Department
If Blondie is going to play around with formats, then so are we. No, I’m under no impression she will ever actually read this. ETA: LOL when I thought *that* was going to be the fun format twist.
The number of people who tried to “well, actually” me in the comments section of a TikTok I posted wherein I used this play on “O Captain, My Captain” was, frankly, upsetting. But reinforces my thoughts on reading comprehension—overall, and when it comes to this album. But we’ll get to all that.
A dash! Ha!
Millennials and Gen X will have emojis and GIFs ripped from our cold dead hands and I know you are with me on this.
Yes, I took a break after typing this sentence to listen to “Daylight”.
I do think we need to address this stages of grief situation and the way people misinterpret the famous Kubler-Ross model. Those stages were originally developed regarding terminally ill people facing their own deaths and coming to terms with them. I’m sure you know this. Because also those Apple playlists mentioned the stages of HEARTBREAK and people willingly just don’t comprehend what they read these days. As a person who is passionate about grief and conversations around it, this misreading always drives me nuts, but especially during this album cycle. Maybe we can help fix this? I do think the terminally ill model could be applied to watching a relationship die or the metaphorical death first hinted at in “You’re Losing Me”. Unfortunately that wasn't what was happening on the interwebs where suddenly everyone was an expert. Shocker.
I am NOT sure of this thing I’m putting out. Like not at all. Sometimes in life you gotta say, “What the fuck” and make your move.
He is, of course, also on Cowboy Carter. And as my friend Jessica pointed out, they even let him jump in the pool at Graceland during that Christmas special.
A song from Speak Now/SNTV. A sampling of lyrics:
I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us
How we met and the sparks flew instantly
And people would say, "They're the lucky ones"
I used to know my place was a spot next to you
Now I'm searching the room for an empty seat
'Cause lately I don't even know what page you're on
Oh, a simple complication
Miscommunications lead to fall out
So many things that I wish you knew
So many walls up I can't break through
Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room
And we're not speaking and I'm dying to know
Is it killing you like it's killing me? Yeah
I don't know what to say since the twist of fate
When it all broke down
And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now
Next chapter
Others: Fearless, Speak Now, Red, Lover, Evermore
Are you like, “LOL are you sure, Ab? Because it kinda seems like that’s what’s happening here.”
And I kept that old dress, from that very first week…legit, I still wear it as a cover-up by the pool. I’m also pretty sure that night is a big reason I never let the bra-strap headband leave my life, even when it wasn’t on trend.
He had a quirky reason why he wanted to live in a random spot and not a cooler neighborhood which he could have totally afforded and I ate it up, natch! Even though I really wished he lived in Tribeca or the West Village. One of his “typewriters”, if you will, was a fucking apartment on W. 54th St around the corner from Letterman. Sigh.
We are good. Like we don’t talk all the time. But if I texted, he’d text me back. He sent a lovely note when my mom died and the last time he did stand-up in Indy, I went to see the show and we had a drink after.
This reference calls to mind “Hits Different”: “I used to switch out these Kens, I’d just ghost…” Because she’s been the archer and she’s been the prey, never forget.
I instantly thought of “Paris”:
Privacy sign on the door
And on my page and on the whole world
Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours
Levitate above all the messes made
Sit quiet by my side in the shade
And not the kind that's thrown
I mean, the kind under where a tree has grown
She wrote this one solo, along with “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”, “The Black Dog”, “Peter”, and “The Manuscript”
ETA: On 4/25 we got some glimpses of tour rehearsal via a YT short that appears to show some new choreo (hello, canes!) and the TTPD logo. Who knows how it will all come together and what may get cut, but again I trust her implicitly on this front.
There’s a photo of Denise (yes, Matty is a Brit nepo baby) and Taylor from when she surprise popped up at The 1975 show in January 2023. She did their song “The City” and the first-ever live performance of “Anti-Hero” which was only a couple months old. As I’ve always said, one thing Taylor Swift is going to do is meet your mom, immediately. Like maybe even before she dates you. I actually model my look for Eras Chicago N1 off hers from that night.
FYI, Jack also produced their most recent album.
I’m still anti-pickleball but it does not surprise me that Taylor plays.
Sorry you had to catch a stray, Gabbriette. But man it works to get a feeling across.
I think about Lysistrata at least once a week. I really need to reread that soon.
Circa 1977 eldest daughter checking in for duty and to co-sign all of this 🫡
I'm still digesting TTPD (have only listened up to track 18, but have done repeated listens of that) so I will definitely be coming back to your article when I've made more progress, but I really enjoyed reading your thoughts thus far! I've been irritated by quite a lot of reviews around the album, mostly because they were so rushed and this is an album which requires long and close attention. Like many others I have a similar tale (got out of a 6 year relationship and then dove into a painful situationship with an old friend/ flame) which no doubt helps it resonate more, and Red was my favourite album so I obviously like angry Taylor the best 😂 but there's a self awareness and maturity to this album which shows enormous growth, and many of the songs are brilliant. One thing I haven't seen anyone comment on until you, was the sarcasm in many of the songs- they are frequently funny although a darker humour. Two people came to mind for me after listening to it a lot (especially I Can Do It With a Broken Heart) , Bo Burnham and Jerrod Carmichael. Have you seen Bo Burnham's Inside? It's musical comedy (though also confronting and bleak at times) which is very personal and honest. Jerrod also has his new show out, which sees him being honest and confronting with loved ones in his own life. Of course I don't know that they were influences for Taylor, although she does know them both, but this album sees her at her most honest and personal, to the point of it being uncomfortable at times. I'm sure I'll have more thoughts to share and look forward to ploughing on with it all when I have a tiny bit of brain space!