Taylor Swift has reached nearly unfathomable levels of stardom over the past several months. This fame can be credited to a couple things, arguably split 50-50: her record-breaking Eras Tour and her newfound love with Kansas City Chiefs star tight end Travis Kelce. Swift began dating Kelce in the middle of her Eras Tour, and she could be seen taking breaks from her grueling tour schedule every week to attend Kelce’s football games. Nearly every camera in the stadium would pan to Swift any chance they could, further cementing her status as a pop megastar who transcends any fame your favorite celebrity could ever achieve.
Making music that matches Swift’s cultural ubiquity is a tall task. With someone as famous as she is right now, it’s only fair to expect grandiose feats of musical excellence. While Swift shows flashes of witty lyricism and memorable moments, much of the music in this record leaves something to be desired.
Clocking in at 31 songs and just over two hours, “The Tortured Poets Department” is a behemoth of a record, one that looks mightily intimidating upon first glance. The first few songs on the record certainly don’t help its case. “Fortnight,” featuring Post Malone (barely), is host to its fair share of trademark Swift lines: “I love you / It’s ruining my life” feels like a lyric that Swifties across the globe will be chanting in unison for all of time.
However, this record sees Swift at her cringiest. Some of the lyrics throughout the record are truly baffling, and the first instance of this comes in “Fortnight” as well: “I was a functioning alcoholic / ‘Till nobody noticed my new aesthetic.” Maybe the joke went right over my head, but I personally don’t like to think of alcoholism as an aesthetic.
Although it’s apparent a good chunk of this album’s energy was put toward building memorable choruses, the vast majority of them are clearly missing the it-factor of some of her best choruses. “You Belong With Me” and “Shake It Off” are two of my favorite pop choruses of this millennium, and in the 2020s era of Swift, songs like “exile” and “ivy” do a much better job of executing her hushed, lush aesthetic she recently transitioned to.
The title track suffers from similar things “Fortnight” does. While the volume is marginally increased on the pulsating synths, they never feel like they reach a climax. Swift also dishes out some more cringeworthy lyrics, and this specific section has been circulating on the internet before the album was even released: “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.” Charlie Puth’s level of fame is more than okay where it is right now, and I really hope someone never compares me to a tattooed golden retriever.
Both halves of the record feature nearly equal production credits from two people: Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner. Swift’s creative relationship with Antonoff spans nearly seven years longer than hers with Dessner, and based on the album’s best songs compared to its worst, it’s clear Swift and Antonoff’s storied tenure has run its course. All of the best songs on this record (yes, all of them) are produced by Dessner. “So Long, London,” is perhaps the best example of this fact, as it draws you in from the jump with its pulsating synths (executed much better than those on “Fortnight”). The song also features some excellent songwriting prowess from Swift: “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.” While Antonoff and Dessner utilize similar instrumentation, Dessner’s gives room for Swift’s lyrics to shine while Antonoff’s often drown her out.
“But Daddy I Love Him” is the greatest example of Swift at her best and at her worst. It’s the longest song on the album but remains catchy throughout its entire duration. It is one of the few songs that truly features a gratifying chorus. How can it go wrong? There is one brief moment in the middle of the song where Swift’s lyricism hits rock bottom. “Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see” could very well be my least favorite lyric Swift has ever written. It isn’t as eye-catching as “Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby” on her 2022 hit “Anti-Hero” or a litany of other examples on this record, but this feels uncharacteristically juvenile from someone of her caliber.
Something I will give Swift credit for is her raw vulnerability throughout the record. It is arguably her most vulnerable record yet, and despite some of the sleepy production and painfully cringe moments, her mostly consistent vulnerability kept me listening for all 31 songs. The back half of the record is a whirlwind of lushly produced piano ballads, with great songwriting on songs like “Peter” and “Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus.” But the unequivocal highlight from this half is “So High School.”
Unlike the other 30 songs of the record, this track is undeniably rock ‘n’ roll (with a sprinkle of Dessner’s breathy production, of course). The first 30 seconds of the song can be plopped anywhere on Snail Mail’s indie pop classic “Lush” before predictably transitioning into its power-pop groove. Most of the lyrics are a refreshing return to Swift’s alluring late-2000s and early-2010s form, but one stretch instantly threw me off guard. “You know how to ball, I know Aristotle / Brand-new, full throttle / Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto” made me (literally) laugh out loud the first time I heard them. Initially, I hated these lyrics — they were equally as cringeworthy as Swift’s worst. But it wasn’t until I watched a video of two people rapping this stretch in an MF DOOM flow over an MF DOOM beat that really sold me on how iconic these lyrics are. Sometimes it’s good to loosen up a little.
Ultimately, “The Tortured Poets Department” is a mildly disappointing, mildly entertaining next step in Swift’s otherworldly catalog. Every highlight is immediately followed by a lowlight, and that cycle remains the same throughout its over-two-hour duration. With that being said, Swift showcases yet again her innate ability to portray love as a battlefield. She has written a large chunk of this generation’s most agreeable love songs, and most if not all of them see Swift as the universal scorned lover. Swift has the power to make an army of people relate to every word she says like no other, and she can do it with just one line. However, the 31 songs on this record give ample room for Swift to take us on a journey through her whimsical and tortured experience with love — one that we will surely see more of in the future.
