Review Summary: The innocence of Taylor Swift
In the world of female pop stars the marketing platitude “sex sells” is sadly more often than not proved to be true. Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda video is at 327+ million views on YouTube, Miley Cyrus’s hyper sexualised rebranding continues, Rihanna’s Instagram account frequently has her posing without any clothes in sight, Katy Perry hit it big by kissing a girl (and, of course, liking it) and J-Lo/Iggy Azalea seem more interested in showing off their ass(ets) than producing a great song. Amongst all this Taylor Swift stands out as an impressively different type of presence in the music industry and despite 1989 being touted as her first full pop album she isn’t interested in selling herself quite like her contemporaries.
One of Taylor Swift’s greatest strengths is the innocence which she projects through her songs; her girl next door image is a substantial part of her universal appeal and she’s shrewd enough to know not to change that. Sex never features in her albums but rather “pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks” are the currency of relationships in her world. To be clear, this isn’t a criticism. It’s actually refreshing to hear a pop star willing to keep things so wholesome and it is why her music is accepted by almost everyone, teen girls/boys, their mums/dads and everyone in between can relate to her songs in some way. 1989 does nothing to threaten this idea; the closest Swift comes to sex is a boy’s hands on her hips and lying on bedroom floors. This is still definitely her first big pop album though.
Within the first few seconds of opener Welcome to New York one thing is clear; we’re not in Nashville anymore. It’s debatable whether Red was or wasn’t really a pop album (22, We Are Never Getting Back Together, I Knew You Were Trouble suggest it was) but for 1989 Swift is setting her stall out from the word go; we’re in New York now and this is big, catchy as hell pop. And oh boy are these songs catchy. Pop juggernaut Max Martin proves again to be a perfect match for Swift’s wide eyed tales of loves both lost and found. By now it’s easy to criticise Taylor Swift for the singular theme of her writing and whilst ten of the thirteen tracks her are about boys she excels at making the old tropes sound new all over again. This album particularly has Swift trying out a wide array of new sounds; the absolutely huge drums that are big enough to fill multiple stadiums at once on album standout Out of the Woods, the funky guitar riff throughout Style sounds like it would be at home on Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories, Welcome to New York is the best synthpop song this side of Tegan and Sara’s Heartthrob album. Shake it Off (whilst embodying Bo Burnham’s Repeat Stuff) is easily the year’s catchiest song and also the most fun. So although the stories are familiar the way they’re told has never been bolder and more rewarding than here.
1989 actually only ever falters when the stadium sized bombastic pop is abandoned for softer sounds. The second half suffers from this more than the first. This Love and Clean are just breathy by-the-numbers vapid ballads and I Know Places suffers from a distinct lack of personality. Elsewhere, Wildest Dreams sees Swift doing her best Lana Del Rey impression but she doesn’t possess the same coolly detached irony that Rey excels at and of course in Swift's world the woman isn’t as battered or beaten as some of Rey’s characters are and therefore the song lacks any real edge. The album is definitely frontloaded with all the energy, How You Get The Girl being the only real highlight of the second half but there’s so much to enjoy and so much momentum from that first half that the second still ends up reasonably enjoyable.
Taylor Swift has always been fixed in her country roots to a certain degree but on 1989 she abandons them completely and embraces pop music with such enthusiasm and aplomb (not to mention success) that it’s hard to imagine she’s ever been anything but one of the best pop stars of this generation. All whilst still being that sweet girl next door.
