If there is one reason that 2020 feels terrible, it’s because of how swiftly it caused everything to come to a halt. While there is reason behind this decision, it has forced the human desire in everyone to find ways to survive. How do you fill the holes left behind by an opened schedule where film, TV, and music aren’t going to be as present in pop culture. It’s a time of emptiness that is scary. With thousands dropping dead weekly, this is the closest that most of us have stared into despair and recognized our own mortality.
Where some of us see a paralyzing void, the pandemic’s one great gift from artists is more time to create. Those who are in tune with their writing process have started to reconnect with their fans by creating art that speaks to their personal experiences, allowing themselves to create some of their most mature and insular work to date. From the get-go, Charli XCX kicked off the quarantine record phenomenon with the masterful “How I’m Feeling Now” with its raw, immediate quality capturing isolation that’s only sufficed by digital wires connecting us. Many have continued to express themselves, but few have matched its quality.
What’s great about Taylor Swift’s “Folklore” is that it doesn’t feel necessarily like a quarantine record. The production quality is among her very best, presenting a great atmospheric use of chamber pop while she dives into some of her most mature writing.
To the general public, the record’s only been in existence for approximately a week. Following a Twitter announcement, she released the album within hours. Lead by the single “Cardigan,” she surprised everyone in a variety of ways. On the surface, it’s a record that sold over a million copies in a single day. To go deeper, it’s a moment in her career where she feels like she has once again evolved, moving from country to pop diva and now to her potentially final evolution. For the first time, she feels in tune with her emotions, capable of doing more than starting petty squabbles. This is Swift, finally as she wants to be seen.
Which is crazy because this isn’t how 2020 was supposed to go. For Swift, “Folklore” is the quickest turnaround between records, making one realize that these thoughts likely came from someplace primal, stuck at home looking at old diaries and reminiscing on every relationship she’s ever had. It feels like one that exorcises her embarrassing experiences in favor of the true emotions that she felt deep down. Gone is the finger-pointing blame game that defined her 2010s output and in its place an acceptance that only comes with time.
In an alternate timeline, this would be the year of “Lover,” where several singles continue to drop. Her Disney+ special City of Lover Concert (2020) would be only a minor note in her playing these live elaborate concerts, playing the infectious pop tunes before thousands of fans as they sing along. The shift between “Lover” (or her post-“1989” albums for that matter) and “Folklore” is stark. Even if they share this growing self-reflection, diving into the self and finding an artist growing more complex in her confidence, “Lover” still exists as this pop record meant to make you dance. It’s a record about turning 30 and accepting you for who you are.
“Folklore” is a much more thought-provoking album that feels like a starting point. In concept, Swift claims that it’s meant to be a collection of stories. She has moved away from personal experience and is channeling her emotions through these characters that make things more cryptic. One has to wonder how much of each song is her life and what is fiction. Even then, it’s a creative project that takes the listener on a journey. This is what speaks to Swift during a pandemic, and it’s frankly much more interesting than working on base emotions. Grappling with these concepts encourage repeat listening, diving into lyrics that have been fine-tuned.
In some respects, it’s more of the same from Swift. Her racket has always been to write love songs reflecting contemporary social dynamics. However, she feels much freer on this record from the opener “The 1,” where she immediately admits that she’s “on some new shit.” There is little holding her back from a new and raw form of honesty. Unlike the maligned album “Reputation,” this is not through vapid pettiness. This is through a nostalgic view of a life that could’ve been. The recurring motifs throughout this song makes the listener recognize the bittersweet beauty in full detail:
But we were something, don't you think so?
Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool
And if my wishes came true
It would've been you
The feeling hits hard, though it won’t be the last time that she’s capable of pulling out the big emotion. With this simple passage, she creates a vivid picture that feels reminiscent of “The Great Gatsby” and its theme of chasing the past. It’s also a reference to a feeling of reckless indulgence, where tossing money into pools pulls her back to her own 20s when the future didn’t feel like it mattered. She ends by looking at her wishes, which reflects how she would change life, to live this happiness with you. It’s bittersweet, remembering a joyful period with the one.
And yet, it escapes. We want to hold on, but we can’t. What stops us from chasing the past and finding ways to move forward? It’s the push and pull that makes this far more compelling. The rest of the song serves as Swift playing with this temptation, and she eventually lasted with an acceptance. There’s a bit of a tear, but it’s one rooted in acceptance that life is far from perfect. She has to live with the hand she’s dealt. She lets the moment live through her own form of folklore, allowing fans to get this contemporary tale to reflect on their own allegorical aging.
The further into the album that things get, the more that it begins to form deeper mythology. “Cardigan” continues the album with a similar fashion, reflecting on another faded relationship. Towards the end, it feels like the mirrored version of “The 1” where somebody else puts on her cardigan years later, saying that it was their favorite. Another beautiful, bittersweet message peppered with an optimistic subtext that shows how crucial these moments are.
This song also kicks off a running story throughout the entire album. If you combine “Cardigan” with “August” and “Betty,” it forms this deeper story about how love grows over the years. What starts as young and naïve eventually evolves into something mature by the end. There is something lustful about “Betty” that is reflecting back on the events of the first song, desiring to play off of emotions. These are also presented in third-person, a rarity for Swift that allows her to be bolder with her decisions. It’s so much the case that she can sing about kissing women and leave room for interpretation as to what is storytelling and what is implicit.
With “Seven,” she even pulls from her own life. As much as this is a nostalgic story that pulls from her romantic relationships, her recent ability to get vulnerable about her own youth has added an endearing subtext to her career. Following in the vein of “It’s Nice to Have a Friend,” this is a warm story that is full of a personality that makes Swift feel more approachable, capable of enjoying the simple things like us.
Please picture me in the weeds
Before I learned civility
I used to scream ferociously
Any time I wanted
More than anything, Swift has become more interesting the more that she’s willing to expand her own myth-making. Gone are the days where she needs to make Top 40 songs. All she has left is to be honest with herself, and there is something breathtaking about how she approaches it. She isn’t vindictive or seeking revenge. She’s as much about self-love as she is encouraging others to be nice to each other.
Even her saddest songs, like “My Tears Ricochet” and “This Is Me Trying,” finds herself reaching a familiar form of depression. As anyone who has seen Miss Americana (2020) will know, she has been struggling to be true to herself in recent years, needing to stop pleasing others. She can’t repress her feelings and just be open about her feelings. As a result, you get some incredible lines, such as this passage that ranks among her finest writing:
They told me all of my cages were mental
So I got wasted like all my potential
And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad
I have a lot of regrets about that
I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere
Of course, there are elements of reality mixed into all of this that is reminiscent of her past. She thinks of boyfriends who have cheated on her (“Illicit Affairs”) as well as backlash she has received for her political views (“Mad Woman”). In that regard, this works as her most autobiographical album to date, managing to comment on everything that makes her so singular. She’s a pop star using her platform for good, allowing her identity to no longer be caged. She is, as she said, on some new shit and it’s ridiculous to let others hold you back.
The album works as a bell curve of emotion. It moves from nostalgic emotions to aspects that are more thorny. By the middle there are moments where she grapples with depression and affairs, finding acceptance where she used to find vitriol. As the album comes to an end, it takes on a more atmospheric and meditative quality, pulling optimism out in full form. Everyone is allowed to feel love, and she’s going to give into that with songs like “Peace.”
These are stories that she shares in hopes that everyone can better themselves. While there’s arguably nothing new lyrically, her approach has become much more satisfying. She’s able to look at failed relationships and understand the grey area that drew her to them initially. She’s capable of recognizing the love that was pure and honest. It’s beautiful, reminding us that the world isn’t over because a few things go wrong. We just need to believe in ourselves.
Even if “Hoax” ends with a break-up song, it’s ultimately about moving on and discovering what the future has to offer. Given how the pandemic has made life feel more fragile than ever, accepting the value of the self is what’s most important. Even during the darkest moments, this is a hopeful record. It’s one that offers solutions instead of nonstop complaints.
Would “Folklore” exist if it wasn’t for the pandemic? Odds are that she will have reached her storytelling phase at some point. We can only be thankful that she’s capable of being this focused and accomplished during such a dour time. Instead of writing a cynical record, she writes one of longing for something pure and beautiful. It’s as much a look into the past as it is looking forward, trying to find something to grasp onto. If this is where her career is going, a more brazen form of folk music reminiscent of her country days, then I welcome it. She seems more comfortable, more compelling here. It may not help her sell out arenas, but it may help her be more creative and honest with the world.
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