Album Review: Taylor Swift - The Tortured Poets Department

The cliche about artists being tortured souls is tired, but that doesn't stop there from being drips of truth leaking through. There is something about art that requires good artists to mine their souls for inspiration, to be willing and able to slice off thin sashimi of their own hearts to present to the world. Pain often fuels art, but making and sharing that same art is a different kind of pain. It is an existential terror to strip yourself down to your strongest emotions, put yourself on display, and hope the audience is drawn in to give you a hug.

If there's an audience at all.

Taylor Swift doesn't need to worry on that point, having just completed one of the greatest years in pop culture history. Her 'Eras Tour' was so massive it shifted economies, her presence was able to balloon the already gigantic ratings of NFL games, and oh yeah, she was also named 'Person Of The Year' by Time. And she did all of that while finding love.

Have I ever mentioned that I kind of hate people who are happy?

This record, though, was the way she was able to get to that point. These songs are the end of her last relationship, and the segue into this new phase of world domination. Even though a tv character once joked that he could use his greedy money to buy "happiness, and stop trying to cheer me up," all the success in the world doesn't prevent Taylor Swift from hurting like anyone else when relationships fall apart. And unlike most of her peers, she has the lyrical prowess to put us in the room like one of those true crime documentaries.

"Midnights" had a very specific sound, and this record is the sound of the hours that follow. The chiming of the clock again and again cracked things open, and what poured out became these songs. The production is the same chill, cold pop that we heard on "Midnights", which is an interesting commentary on how the very idea of breakup albums has changed over the years. When "Blood On The Tracks" set the standard, Bob Dylan was an angry man using his voice to tear through his poetic rantings. Conversely, Taylor cuts with her words, using her voice as a detached statement of how she's leaving this era behind. It isn't anger, it's a resignation of how much time she wasted on a past that is now a relic.

I understand the sentiment, and it's probably a healthier option than spending the months it takes to make a record wallowing in a seething resentment. What I don't understand as much is the way the production fits in with heartbreak, as the electronic nature of the quiet songs doesn't resonate with me in a way that stirs my own feelings. The layer of artificial sound clashes with the authenticity of the lyrics, feeling a bit like a laminated diary where the lamp glares across the words as I'm trying to understand what Taylor is saying.

The other thing is that while her head was spinning with the various ways she was reliving the end of that period of life (as evidenced by the last-minute revelation of a second album of songs), she once again packs her album with a few too many songs. Between the density of her language, and the deep well she is pulling from, a full hour-plus of this dilutes the impact of each great song. You can forget about me speaking eloquently on two full records worth of these songs.

There are great songs on here. "Guilty As Sin?" sounds like a hit to me, and "But Daddy I Love Him" slithers into my head, but there are also songs that wallow a bit too much to pick up that kind of killer instinct. The same thing happened with "Midnights", whereas the more organic nature of "Folklore" could feel honest even when it was telling fictions. I appreciate the endless torrent of creativity Taylor possesses, but a record like this demands a level of attention I'm not sure it repays.

The lowest moment is undoubtedly "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart", where the programmed drums are so loud and incessant it reminds me of my worst days before I outgrew nausea-inducing headaches. It is a pounding that doesn't need to grow tiresome, because I'm ready to unplug the machine after the very first four bars... or find an open bar to numb myself to the point I can't hear them.

This era of Taylor Swift's career is difficult for me because she is playing with sounds I don't fully understand. She is the greatest pop lyricist of this generation, and her knack for writing songs that are hard to shake is the only connection I have to pop music anymore. I want to love this record, and I want to be able to say my own sadness finds spaces in these songs to resonate, but I'm not sure I can quite do that. Like "Midnights", there is half an album of truly mesmerizing music I don't think anyone else in the mainstream could make, but there is also half an album of songs that fly over my head. Perhaps in time I will come around on those tracks, and the full hour spent with Taylor will be a therapy session for me.

I hope so, but I'm feeling doubtful.