reviews

Single review: Taylor Swift’s ‘Look What You Made Me Do’

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Gone are the days when critics had the power to pronounce artists “dead”. Now, it seems, they have taken matters into their own hands.

By now, you’ve probably heard the news: “The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now….she’s dead!” Together with the sudden erasure of her social media accounts, and a move away from the Victoria’s Secret aesthetic, it is very clear that we are at the beginning of what Swifties lovingly refer to as an “era”.

At least, that’s what Swift is desperate for us to think. But why, if she is seeking to obliterate her past, has Swift called her upcoming album Reputation, a word that by its very definition requires a past?

And why so keen to kill off the old Swift? What did she ever do to deserve an early demise? Done in such a contrived manner, it reeks of fear. Fear of the PR effects of supposedly bitchy falling-outs so publicised by the media. Fear of remaining the same. And, perhaps most of all, fear of never again reaching the height at which 1989 set the bar.

Valid fears, one and all.  But this violent casting-off of the old would be far less offensive and far more effective, if the single around which this hype was generated was something more than…okay. Ish.

I won’t lie: the opening is spine-tingling. Strings? Sparkling synth? Hello. And then those booming beats, with Taylor right on the mic, her breath in our ears, spitting words that have the syntactic mastery of Blank Space. “I don’t like your little games/ Don’t like your tilted stage/ The role you made me play/ Of the fool, no I don’t like you”.

At the 45th second we have our pre-chorus, where, with rapid-fire piano chords and even quicker lyrics, things are starting to escalate (“But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time”) and that volume knob is going up, up, up.

The anticipation of a theatrical burst of anthemic, savvy pop is high. Very high. Until that amazingly, deafeningly, anticlimactic chorus.

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It’s as though the bottom just drops out of this song. The harmonic underpinnings vanish, the momentum evaporates, and we are left with a sparse, repeated refrain that sounds more like yesterday’s Meghan Trainor than today’s born-again Taylor Swift.  I’ll say it again: THERE IS NO CHORUS TO SING HERE. Move along folks. Have a nice day.

To top it all off, there’s something a little offensive about having this accusatory single flung in our faces. What have we done? It’s hard to know. Probably nothing, it’s probably all Kayne’s fault, but even so it feels a little…aggressive.

Revenge has always been her shtick, but as Swift sings “the world moves on, another day another drama/ But not for me, all I think about is karma” it all starts to sound a little petty.  1989 was not only a significant new musical direction, it was a welcome move away from the cryptic mud-slinging. Ironically, Reputation seems to be a return to the insecurity we thought she’d shed.

No, the old Taylor is not dead. She is just in hiding, behind the increasingly impersonal facade of the Swift™ machine.

Images: Variety & Giphy
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On Lorde’s “Green Light” and its brave ugliness.

The first time I listened to Lorde’s Green Light, I wasn’t sure if she’d got away with it.

Growling right at the lowest end of her register, battling with an almost disastrous chord change in the chorus, the Kiwi kid of Royals acclaim had me crying “What the hell are you doing?!” sooner than she had me singing along.

No surprises that Jack Antonoff was involved – the sparse, pop-savvy verse will conjure references to Taylor Swift’s 1989 with little effort. And, like 1989, the experimentation ultimately paid off.

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Because by some devilry, that chorus works. While the initial shock might have cooled our enthusiasm for a second, Lorde brings it all flooding back with a dance refrain that will be flailed to on many a drunken night – and let’s be honest, some sober ones too.

I may have been bamboozled for a moment or two, but those seconds of shock and uncertainty were some of the most exciting of my day (I know, I live a wild life). Who dares to let these rough edges show, on radio of all places? Who dares to create something so uncomfortable, in the name of art? Not many artists who get airplay, that’s who.

And this, time and again, is why Lorde stands out. Because she refuses to shy away from a little ugliness, that little ugliness that is an inescapable and very real part of life, and which gives her art all the more credibility and daring.

On Repeat Lately #4

Sia – Move Your Body

This always seems to come on when I’m driving and cannot do my dance moves justice (or injustice? The judgement is perhaps not mine to make). But on the upside, red lights are now a beacon of freedom for my ready-to-flail limbs.

Helen Shanahan – I Only Hide

This slow-burning piece of country folk is the kind of song I had to listen to five times in a row. Its steady groove and haunting vocals wrestle with the anxiety of performance in the spotlight…a place Shanahan is going to have to get comfortable with if she keeps creating stunners like this one.

David Bowie – Life On Mars?

What do you do when writing about a Bowie tribute show? Listen to Bowie of course. And lust after this eye makeup job.

The Mis-Made – Blood Money

Joan Jett’s legacy is alive in these Sydney rockers, who I also happened to be writing about this month. Headbanging while writing is a skill, people.

Jack Johnson – Better Together

Summer has called for a lot of chill music, and when it has called, Jack Johnson has answered. An oldie but a goodie.