On Friday morning Taylor Swift dropped folklore, her new album that came as a bit of a surprise. The album has a feature from Bon Iver, and credits to the National’s Aaron and Bryce Dessner, and Jack Antonoff, among others.
Looking at the cover, which was released earlier this week, and seeing that producer list, it was clear before a song was released that this was going to be Taylor’s “escape to the woods” album, a quiet, reflective indie piece that would show a stripped-down side of Swift.
It’s more than that, though. At first listen, at least for me, it’s her best album since 1989, and right up there with the very best work of her career. It’s also a record I’m excited to spend time with. It feels like it can only grow from here.
Other pop stars have attempted this “escape to the woods” album, and most have failed (ahem, Justin Timberlake). But Swift’s songwriting has always made sense to be pared down; she started as a girl with an acoustic guitar, a hell of a voice, and a notebook full of capital-F Feelings.
Now she’s taken that and added the best of indie rock production, and what she’s achieved, at first blush anyway, is staggering.
The album begins with “the 1” and from the first notes, all sultry piano, you’re struck. I had one word in my notes: “confidence.”
Even the song sounds confident, with Swift not returning to the woods to feel sorry for herself, but rather to reflect on what could have been with a knowing and mature candor. She swears freely and easily, not for affect, like she has done in the past (“look, I cuss now, like an ADULT!” she almost seemed to say), but with a worldly understanding that sometimes a dirty word is the only way to get a point across.
“It would have been fun, if you would have been the one” she sings, a lover looking back fondly, and a little sadly, at a lost relationship. Over her voice, lush production swells. Taylor has had several re-inventions in her career, but this is the first one, to me at least, that felt real, and earned, and not put on for affect. It had only taken about 30 seconds, but here I was — a believer.
From there, she settles into a wonderful rhythm. “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” she sings on “cardigan,” before singing to the glory of youth – romps through the rain, getting regrettable tattoos, all of the stupid stuff we do before we know better. It’s not overtly political, but it packs a punch beyond one of just pure nostalgia — she understands that the stupidity and innocence of youth has its own power.
The album is 16 tracks, and while a few get lost in the shuffle, she never loses focus. There are ballads, and a few more ballads, and a few rockers. She manages to channel Bruce Springsteen (!) at times, notably on “the last great american dynasty,” a song about privilege in Rhode Island. (Just listen to it.)
Later on, “epiphany” is nothing but strings, a piano, and the layers of Swift’s voice. It at once channels Enya (I mean this as a true compliment) and some of the middle-era Bon Iver. The track builds, and builds, then at one stunning moment, Swift’s voice cuts out, and is replaced by … a lone french horn, which plays out softly in the background. I started cackling with joy.
This is confident music. For years now, Swift has found success in bringing in big pop producers to fill out her sound, adding layers upon layers to achieve outrageous pop maximalism. At times it can truly succeed — see all of 1989 — but at other times it could feel a bit like the producers added a coat of lime green paint and 20-inch rims to an economy car.
Here, Swift has the confidence to get rid of it all. Well, most of it all. These songs still are produced fantastically, warm and inviting, but it’s just what’s needed. A touch of static here. A stark piano chord there. A lone, haunting french horn.
Some tracks hew to old Taylor Swift formulas — “betty” could have been placed on her first album and wouldn’t feel out of place; the from-the-get Swifties will surely love it — but for the most part this feels new, and right.
It feels of the moment. She said her time in quarantine sparked something creatively in her, and it sure seems to have. This is an album for solitude, for being alone, but it isn’t despondent. It’s one of hope. It sounds spectacular. I’m eager to listen again.
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