Taylor Swift’s April 19 album “The Tortured Poets Department” was announced at the Grammys earlier this year and released on Friday. The record received over 300 million streams and has been met with an uproar (positive and negative) on social media over its lyrics, musical nature, and themes — as well as the usual debates over which other celebrities inspired which songs. I’ve been a fan for long enough that I’ve seen it all, and I’m aware my take on this record will be inherently biased because of how long I’ve been standing by Taylor.
That being said, this is not Taylor’s Swift’s best album. This isn’t her magnum opus or a masterpiece by any means, but frankly, I think that’s okay. It’s not the goal. I don’t know when we started placing an expectation on artists to consistently top their previous work with every new release, or if the rhetoric is mostly directed towards her because of her sheer level of stardom, but I think Taylor should be allowed to make music below her own peak and get a free pass. I think subscribing to rhetoric bashing her or making fun of her is too easy, and I don’t enjoy it.
However, I still hold that I should be allowed to criticize her music and lyrics (and, always somewhat related, her political and social actions) and not be viewed as any less of a fan. I strongly believe that being a fan of an artist includes holding them accountable and maintaining critical thought, and I strive to look at this album’s material track by track, combining the love I have as a decade-long listener and an objective reviewer.
“Fortnight” featuring Post Malone
A lot of the lyrics are overly wordy here, and the chorus barely manages to pull it back with a decent refrain (aside from “I love you, it’s ruining my life,” which I can’t fully get behind). The driving synth is nice albeit a little predictable from Antonoff, and Post Malone’s feature is incredibly well-done — his vocals are mostly layered behind her for airy harmonies that don’t distract from her voice, and his verse is inoffensive. The outro is a little too short since the layered vocals and big synth don’t reach a climax, which is a shame, but the song is fine as openers go.
“The Tortured Poets Department”
From the intro and the chiming synths, I can tell I’m going to be wincing a lot throughout this track. The lyrics are gratingly teenage-diary-esque, and there’s a LOT of name-dropping, a song-writing tactic I despise (Does Charlie Puth require a mention on anyone’s album?). The mixing is also chaotic — sometimes her vocals are hidden in the instrumental and sometimes they’re right up against my eardrum. It’s tracks like this when I truly see the Antonoff criticism — his synth pop work gets tired fast.
“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”
The production choices have all felt similar on these first few tracks, but this one is just… much louder. The mixing again is very poorly done — her vocals are deafening, but they’re also completely tied into the music, so I still sometimes can’t hear her well. If the instrumental had more melody alongside the thumping percussion, it would be enjoyable. I also frankly don’t adore the titular concept or effortful lyrics. A couple highlights are the use of the word “litany” and the drums in the second verse. I also I wish there was a full pre-chorus!
“Down Bad”
The intro gives me hope for the album to pick up steam. The vocals and productions feel much more cleanly integrated, and the little technological blips are a cute touch. The lyrics are much simpler and more general until the chorus hits, where I have to pause the track. “Down bad crying at the gym” is an insane lyric to sing at 34 years old, and I can’t do anything but laugh in shock. (My co-editor can attest to this.) I do like the vocal interplay in the second pre-chorus, and the lyrics “leaving me safe and stranded” in the bridge, but the song just morphs into a non-event.
“So Long, London”
Song No. 5, highly anticipated for its tracklist placement. Sonically, it’s so much cleaner than its predecessors, with a propulsive beat and layered vocals. The lyrics are so much stronger on this track, and the imagery is much easier to follow than the disjointed “poetry” of previous tracks. The little off-beat moment in the second verse? Delicious. She also includes multiple uses of “So long, London” grammatically, which is so fun. Songs like this remind me why I love Taylor, and it’s a relief to be reminded after the first few tracks. I think it’s a perfect choice for track five, and anyone saying it isn’t might be a little insane.
“But Daddy I Love Him”
I’m unsure what to feel about this, and it’s furthering my conceptual confusion with the album, which might be the point. It’s way too long, a little disorganized, and honestly funny (the pregnancy joke!). I like some of the lyrics — “growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” is a standout — but I can’t pay attention for these six minutes. The messy mixing sounds exactly like the other tracks again, shockingly. In a way, this sounds like if AI was asked to generate a “Speak Now” song produced by Antonoff. It’s not bad, it’s just messy and complicated.
“Fresh Out The Slammer”
Frankly, even though I’m quizzical about the Western energy I’m getting from the production, I enjoy that this is sonically different from the others. I like the lyrics and the wordless outro where the production actually gets to breathe. Even though the instrumentals are still a tad too loud, this is an example of the pleasant country-pop track Taylor can reliably shine on.
“Florida!!!” featuring Florence + The Machine
I owe Florence Welch for commandeering this track and making it sound like her band’s music, and for changing the tone of my listening experience — thank you for pushing Antonoff to create beautiful things. I want Taylor to spend an entire album in this soundscape, full choir included. The drums and vocals and melody are downright cinematic and so, so lush; it’s a near-perfect result for me. This is going to be one of the best songs on the album no matter what follows it.
“Guilty as Sin?”
My complaint with her lyrics, not only on this song, is that they’re turning into flowery prose instead of compelling song lyrics. Her strength has always been telling a rich story in a way that’s still accessible as a song, and this album has fewer moments where this strength comes out. I noticed this on “1989” vault tracks as well. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy the song, because I do, especially the bridge through the outro. The chorus is very catchy, and her vocals sound fantastic, but it’s a good song, not a great one. I’m still nodding and humming along.
“Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”
I don’t know why, but I said “nope” out loud the moment the song started. I immediately took it back after about 25 seconds. The production is enormous and cinematic and gloriously dramatic, and the screamed vocals are so cathartic. This feels like Taylor’s final straw to lash out at the public scrutiny she’s received since entering the spotlight at 14, and the emotions are raw and real. In the bridge, the driving percussion and aggressive lyrics make it even more compelling. The track has some of the most staying power so far, and manages to feel both polished and like it’s bursting at the seams. I adore it. It feels like reclamation.
“I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)”
Why are we in a Western? What’s the album about? What is cohesion anymore? Surprisingly, I don’t actually have a lot of complaints about this one — it’s good, it’s just not my favorite. Also surprisingly, she integrates the mouthful title pretty well. The lyrics paint vivid pictures in my mind, the back half’s vocals are interesting, and the song passes in just two and a half minutes. Decent work. The ending made me chuckle.
“loml”
I was sorely missing a piano track from Taylor, and the softer turn is very welcome. I love the heartbreaking lyrics, like “better safe than starry eyed,” and the religious metaphors that have been popping up throughout the record. I think it’s a really gorgeous track, even if it’s not a huge sonic stand out. The outro has vocalizations that are reminiscent of “folklore,” which once again has me mourning what we could’ve had.
“I Can Do It With A Broken Heart”
Jack Antonoff, please get out of the studio and take a break. There are keys, there are weird taps and thumps that feel like they should’ve been edited out, there are random hums from you in the first verse — and you’re counting her down to the chorus AND post-chorus? But the chorus… really catchy if you ignore the lyrics. A grown woman singing “lights camera b**** smile” is just laughable. I keep thinking it’s getting better and then it gets worse again, but I’m also having so much fun. The lyrics feel overly childish and attempting to be relatable, and they’re only sometimes succeeding. If you stop trying to take it seriously, it’s so much fun. If you’re trying to listen to a good song, I’m not sure it lands at all. I’ve stopped trying. Conclusion: It’s kind of camp.
“The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived”
A side comment: the tracklist is just not cohesive at all. The narrative jumps feel more like whiplash. This song is alright in the first half, but I REALLY love the build in the back half, and I think it completely saves the track. The religious metaphors are back again, the direct callouts of an ex-lover are aggressive and freeing, and she sounds spectacular.
“The Alchemy”
All these pop tracks are blending together a little. However, it’s nice to have a love song, and it’s nice that it’s exceptionally cheesy. She deserves that much after the amount of dark, twisted emotions she’s been writing about. The lyrics are more conventional and simple. It’s a good listen, it’s just overwhelmingly Antonoff synth pop. I will unfortunately always love thinly veiled sports references in a song, and I’m glad Travis Kelce gave us a happy track for the album.
“Clara Bow”
I sat up straight the moment this started. The track’s soft indie rock guitar is phenomenal, and the lyrics immediately gripped me. I forgive the name-dropping and take back my previous comment circa track two. It’s no surprise either when you check the credits and see Aaron Dessner as the producer — it sounds like her work from 2020 and her collaborations from 2021 to 2022. It’s a beautiful track about female singers stepping into stardom, and it’s filled with so much purpose in every line.
When listening all the way through the first 16 tracks on the record, my computer out to take notes and my co-editor sitting next to me manning our Spotify, I didn’t quite know what to feel. Throughout the rest of the tracks, I cycled through a few sentiments: They’re good songs but not great ones, the lyrics range from questionable to camp to phenomenal, and Jack Antonoff creates better work when he doesn’t have synths in his hands.
I sound overly critical, but it’s because I anticipated something different from this album. Yet Taylor put out a deeply personal (to the point of not being relatable at all sometimes) record with heartbreaking lyrics and stories that sometimes feels voyeuristic to hear. At times they lean childish and intolerable, but at others they’re cuttingly ironic and poking fun at the tortured poetry she named the album after. No matter what your opinion on her writing is, it’s indisputable that she’s an intelligent artist, and I think this album is meant to serve fans more than the general public. It’s not very accessible, and I think that’s her intention.
And on another note: It’s already grown on me so much after more listens. Every track is more palatable once you revisit it — but I’m tired of not loving tracks on first listens and wading through lyrics that sound more like spoken word than a song.
So, we’ve reached the end of the album. I sat in my room with my co-editor, experiencing a conflicting slew of emotions. We’ve both been fans for so many years, and been through so many sonic shifts and divisive album releases with Taylor. We both felt disappointed and disconnected. But then, 2 a.m. arrived, and we rejoiced.
There’s nothing Taylor loves more than surprises, and there’s nothing Swifties love more than theorizing about secret deluxe editions or unexpected bonus tracks — and this time, they were correct. At 2 a.m. the same morning the original album dropped, the singer-songwriter dropped 15 new songs to make a complete double record, with “The Anthology” tacked on as the ending clause. For me personally? It completely saved the project, albeit wrecking my night of sleep in the process.
“The Black Dog”
The second this song started, I legitimately teared up. I’m biased, but the entire previous album was immediately cleared. Quiet, beautiful lyrics and piano are the best combination with Taylor’s now-mature voice. The beat drop is so effective and the moment where the guitar and drums suddenly swell to explode is a religious experience. Moments like these remind me why I absolutely love her music, because when she partners with people like Dessner (the main producer on the second half and Taylor’s musical soulmate of choice), she can be magical.
“imgonnagetyouback”
Jack Antonoff is back, but the production is so much more interesting here. The beat is sultry and choppy and militant, and feels more like “Reputation” than “Midnights,” a necessary respite. The line “I can take the upper hand and touch your body” has stayed in my head all weekend, and I don’t care how teenage some of the lyrics skew. I also love the party trick of cutting out the instrumental in the last chorus! Do it again and more! I love silence. I think silence is underrated.
“The Albatross”
I prayed for a return to “evermore” sounding tracks, and I’ve been rewarded. This is so lyrically robust because it’s a story and it’s told so directly — the refrain is so easy to absorb, and the strings and guitar backing her voice are beautiful.
“Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus”
She somehow has yet to miss on this second half! The title drop is one of her most insane choices. It’s like I’m 15 again, listening to the surprise “evermore” drop and crying along to every track. Her lyrics are so strong, and I feel like I’m saying it over and over, but it’s true. My favorite part is the bridge and reference to “Maroon,” which feels like the closing of a chapter in a beautiful, poetic way.
“How Did It End?”
The music here is some of the most superb I’ve heard on a Taylor track ever, and I’m crediting that to the conductor brought on for several of these tracks. There are choral vocals and piano melodies and strong alto melodies, but unfortunately, that’s the most compelling list of things in the track. The lyrics don’t resonate with me personally, but it’s a gorgeous listening experience.
“So High School”
You will never catch me hating a soft rock track, even if it’s so very high school (she did title it that for a reason). The lyrics are so precious but also so, so funny — only Taylor would have a song where she paints dual images of “blink of a crinkling eye” and “touch me while your boys play Grand Theft Auto.” I love this song unconditionally as a girl who loves to be nostalgic and ruminate. Every single line in “So High School” makes me think of my best friend.
“I Hate It Here”
“I Hate It Here” makes my best friend think of me. I am a girl raised in big cities who had to relocate to a small suburb, and for those few years, I never wanted anything more than to leave where I was and be somewhere else in the bigger world. There’s been a lot of controversy over one specific line, which I honestly think the song could’ve done without, even if Taylor qualifies it in the same verse (it was clumsy even if I don’t think it had any malicious intent). Aside from that, I think the track is beautiful and moving. I too have city hopes and small town fears, I was also a precocious reading child, and I save my romanticism for my inner life. I did cry on my first listen.
“thanK you aIMee”
This is absolutely a Kim Kardashian diss track and I think it’s hysterical. This “hidden” title is hilarious too. The track is fun and cute and grown-up “Fearless” in a way. It’s a completely random thing to include thematically, but I’m so happy with this second half of the album that I can’t even make myself care.
“I Look in People’s Windows”
From the very beginning of the track, I’m obsessed. The airy vocals and delicate guitar are beautiful under her voice, which sounds phenomenal. Jack’s work is at its best here, and I like that another producer (Patrik Berger!) is credited. The “if only” of it all is so relatable but so personal, and these lyrics reflect that perfectly. I think it’s a little short, but still very well-done.
“The Prophecy”
This feels straight from “evermore.” I love her storytelling, and this is one of its peaks. Upon re-listening, I think it might be one of her best songs. The chorus is absolutely fantastic; it’s an earworm while still being quiet and complex. Everything is absolutely perfectly crafted, and this is another song where I urge you to just listen so you can hopefully see eye-to-eye with me.
“Cassandra”
The piano is reminiscent of both “seven” and “mad woman” from “folklore,” and the mythological influence makes the story of the song so engaging. I thoroughly enjoy this, but it’s more background listening for me.
“Peter”
This continues the last track’s pattern of being a very strong track, I just know I won’t return to as often. It’s another take on the classic Peter Pan and Wendy love song, but it’s nothing special to depart from that mold. An incredibly pleasant listening experience, and very melancholy.
“The Bolter”
If the “Speak Now” vault had another song, I feel like it could’ve been this one. I like the underlying synth in the deep, deep background of the mix, and I also like the guitar focus. However, it’s the third track in a row I’m not personally bowled over by. It’ll likely be a grower.
“Robin”
She sings each line word by word, and it feels like poetry in a great way despite my earlier criticism of this idea. Her vocals are crystal clear, and the realization that the song is a love letter to lost childhood is so sweet. Lines like “way to go, tiger” make me giggle, but lines like “you’ll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline” make me want to cry. I sadly don’t see myself revisiting this song as much either.
“The Manuscript”
I thought the album was petering out, but this is perhaps one of the top tracks. This song is heartbreakingly soft, but it manages to completely punch you in the gut with its lyrics. The story she spins is heartbreaking and soundtracked by just enough of an instrumental (piano and subtle strings) to add depth to her gentle vocals. I can’t even continue writing about it — I just have to emphasize how beautiful it is to me. This is a perfect closer to this monster of an album.
Favorite tracks:
“Florida!!!” featuring Florence + the Machine
“I Hate It Here”
“The Manuscript”
“Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”
“The Prophecy”
“Fresh Out The Slammer”
“So Long, London”
“The Black Dog”
“imgonnagetyouback”
“The Albatross”
“I Look in People’s Windows”
“So High School”
“Clara Bow”
This second release made me relieved, to say the least. Some tracks stand out, and others blend into each other, but they’re such a cut above the first half lyrically and sonically. It’s times like these that remind me why I’m a fan in the first place. I love her pop work with Antonoff, and I think it’s capable of greatness, even if I think they may have reached their artistic ceiling with each other in that specific genre. (Can Taylor and Lana collaborate again?) But when working with the right people on the right music, she can make magic for me, and even if it’s not a consensus you’re personally willing to agree with, it’s one I’ll continue to hold.
The double record also made me appreciate the first part so much more than I did on my first listen. On every re-listen, both halves grow on me even more. It’s proof that she still has music of a truly high caliber in her, and a telling-off (that I myself deserve) for people who demand she consistently make music catering to the people who want a specific output from her. She’s a human being — a flawed one who is very, very deserving of criticism, but also very, very deserving of grace. I love Taylor, and that’s why I criticize her. I think she’s only politically vocal when it won’t harm her (a smart PR decision, but not a morally defensible one), and I think her capitalistic and consumerist habits deserve the shame they receive. I still love her because I don’t feel entitled to her, but I still have a deep personal connection to her. Instead, I just see her as a musician whose work has carried me through over half of my life.
This album is a declaration of her flaws and a plea for people to stop worshiping her and placing her on a pedestal. It’s also belated mourning for putting so much of her personal life into confessional public spheres, because it’s given the general population the right to weigh in on her decisions and partners and emotions for most of her life. Fame is an incredibly tricky thing to handle, especially when you’re given so much at such a young age. I am almost 19 and I am in college feeling more like a child than an adult the majority of the time. At 19, Taylor had already been groomed and ridiculed and sold out stadiums many artists double her age hadn’t even played in. It’s time we allow her to make more musical missteps and divisive choices that don’t make everyone happy, and allow people to have negative thoughts about them. But I think it’s time we really consider the alternatives: not making people feel guilty for having positive thoughts about them, and not having grandiose, invasive expectations for artists on this level and being shocked when they defy them.
Taylor has always positioned herself as an everywoman with universal experiences despite her fame, someone people CAN be parasocially involved with, and it’s part of why she’s been so marketable her entire career. But I think she’s finally realizing, as we are too, that she’s far beyond that point in fame and wealth and life experience, and she’s reconciling how to present her life as relatable and unique. I want her to take that journey, and as a diehard fan, I’m just getting sick of qualifying to (sometimes literal strangers) that “I’m a Swiftie, but not like that,” and fighting other fans when I dare confess that I don’t think a track is good or a lyric isn’t working.
I’m also realizing that the music Taylor tried to make with this album isn’t for the public as much as it used to be. I can say that her lyrics are messy, but they’re some of her most honest and personal, so maybe they’re not really meant for me. I can say that I’m sick of Antonoff sticking her with repetitive synth pop, but they’re best friends and she’s comfortable making these candid tracks with him, so maybe she should keep putting him on each album, even if I’d rather she branch out to new producers who can push her. I can say I wish she’d return to her soundscape from 2020, but it’s not actually my choice, because it’s not my music. It’s not anyone’s but Taylor’s.
The story isn’t hers anymore, as she sings in the closing track, but it’s somehow more hers than it’s ever been. Public figures aren’t ours like we think they are and should be, and neither is their work just because they share it with us. I hope Taylor Swift keeps making more music that brings her joy and fulfillment and emotional catharsis and I hope people keep speaking about how much they love or hate or feel indifferent about it. I hope I still keep finding reasons to come back and review it with objective criticism alongside the deep love I have for her music.
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