Album Review - Taylor Swift: Midnights

SOLID 5/10

Taylor Swift has been a darling of pop-culture since her self-titled debut in 2006. At just the tender age of 17, Swift was immediately thrusted into the spotlight, alongside her lengthy romantic entanglements that mass-media fawned over as she grew into a true adult. This in itself is probably a traumatic experience on its own and it’s clear that music was a genuine outlet for Swift to project her frustrations into. After years of doing so, public perception began to hold her accountable for her own romantic controversies; this was a catalyst for 2017’s rebellious reputation release. Mixed degrees of acclaim encouraged Swift to take a step back, where she began to refortify her sonic ground with albums like evermore and folklore. On Midnights though, we see a return to her earlier forms of creative expression intertwined with some of her more recent stylizations. The album is generally focused on love as an unaccountable force of nature that can mold its victims. The majority of Midnights is retrospective for the sake of self-improvement, but this notion is rarely expanded upon through the masses of synth-filled instrumentation and fantastical lyricism. It sometimes feels as though Swift is entirely out of touch with the demographic that she normally is able to reach through this LP, leaving much of its verbiage to feel irreverent and somewhat narcissistic, if not occasionally insightful.

Lavender Haze (8/10): Midnights’ opening track enters with a reference to the title and a soothing pitched-down melody. The phrase “lavender haze” was a popular term to describe being in love in the mid-20th-century. Swift encompasses this meaning in coalition with her fate of always being placed in the public eye for people to scrutinize her intermittent passions. Jack Antonoff of Bleachers provides a synthesized aura with heavy drums to encapsulate the musical transition of the skeletal oldies to the rich pop of the 80s and 90s. The chorus is catchy and the song is concise.

Maroon (8.5/10): Swift’s storytelling is emphasized by the explicit imagery she divulges in “Maroon”’s opening verse. References to cleaning vinyl shelves and quotes from prior conversations with a lover create a certain type of intimacy that is not as present in some of her most popular, but vapid, performances. The lyrics are delivered in almost a desensitized manner, as if Swift is aware of the incoming downward spiral of another intense relationship. The heavy instrumental switch is cinematic and provides ample support for Swift’s dense narrative

Anti-Hero (6.5/10): What starts off as a confident introspection progresses into the true fatalistic approach that she handles life with on “Anti-Hero. Lines like “I should not be left to my own devices/they come with prices and vices, I end up in crisis” detail her acknowledgement of her self-destructive, but helpless, nature. The chorus is blunt and submissive and offers no solace for her perceived shortcomings. The verbiage of the song’s second verse is somewhat tastelessly melodramatic, but doesn’t spoil the track’s intentions.

Snow On The Beach (feat. Lana Del Ray) (8/10): The instrumental for “Snow On The Beach” is shiny and hopeful, which is reinforced by the seamless transition into the chorus that proclaims that Swift’s newfound love is “like snow at the beach/weird, but fuckin’ beautiful”. The cadences of the melodies are breathy and intimate, which is further accentuated by the lush vocalization provided by Lana Del Ray in unison with Swift.

You’re On Your Own Kid (6.5/10): The fifth track on Midnights is much more reminiscent of early Swift ballads than most of the other inclusions on the LP. Swift portrays herself as an outsider, yearning for comfort; a comfort that can only be seemingly provided by a partner. The personalized lyrics of the song alternate between interpersonal and individual affairs that Swift has struggled with for years. While the more singular issues attached to Taylor herself are indeed poignant and powerful, talks of feeling like being almost in a state of exile fall short when you consider the absurd success and privilege that Swift enjoys in comparison to earlier in her career.

Midnight Rain (5/10): Beginning with an eerily distorted refrain from Swift that details her desires for prosperity, “Midnight Rain” diverts into an odd mesh of guilt-tripping and taking accountability for her reasonably selfish motivations. The song’s initial verse describes her hometown as superficially comforting; a place that she can return to after finally achieving her dreams, but desperately wanted to leave before. Having to leave home behind coincides with the similar decision of having to do the same to a relationship. “Midnight Rain” is embellished with classic Swift-ian verbal ornaments, but they feel just as hollow as the connection she claims to have to her origins. 

Question? (4/10): “Question?” lacks much more substance than many of its predecessors on Midnights. It is ultimately a simple inquiry for a past romance that she hopes shares the same feelings of relationship-Stockholm-syndrome. Swift is unable to move on and is incapable of seeking proper consolation for her past; this simple theme reflects the safe and undemanding vibe of the track itself.

Vigilante Shit (2/10): In a similar thematic vein to 2015’s “Bad Blood”, but different in its sonic tone, “Vigilante Shit” is about Swift seeking vengeance instead of sympathy for a past break-up. The song is unappealing in all its lyrical theatrics where she opts for self-indulgent lines empowerment that present Swift as an edgy caricature of herself. 

Bejeweled (4.5/10): The polished and rapid instrumental of “Bejeweled” do not cooperate with Swift’s stilted and awkward initial delivery. The song offers a weak analogy of Swift dazzling her romantic target like a jewel, as well as other cringe worthy lines such as “did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve” and references to a man who was charming due to being intoxicated come off as shallow and conceited more so than individually unfettering.

Labyrinth (6.5/10): Jack Antonoff produces a shimmering set of instrumentation to back Swift’s puffed out vocals. Her candid chorus detracts from the song’s nuanced synths, but the track generally expresses a hesitance for Swift’s excitement for a newfound love.

Karma (7.5/10): “Karma”’s mixture of digital and instrumental percussion swirls around Swift’s assertive lyrics about the concept of karma for those who have treated her poorly in the past. Swift is abrasive and confident; the emphatic chorus that defines all the possible meanings of karma depict the singer’s dependence on the natural balance of love that she respects so dearly.

Sweet Nothing (3/10): The production that coats the verses of Midnights’ penultimate track sounds blatantly ripped from the melody of Lukas Graham’s mega-hit “7 Years”. Other than this seemingly egregious lack of originality, the song is structured almost like a lullaby. Ironically, both this song and a lullaby have the same sleep-inducing result.

Mastermind (7/10): Mentions of equations and chess moves illustrates the relationship between Swift and her love-life as an analytical one. Years in the public eye has caused the pop-star to become desensitized to the illusions of grandeur that infatuation can wield, effectively causing her to adopt a more choreographed approach to her romantic affairs. It would be quite a fantastic conclusion if not for the puzzling contradictory, and sometimes shallow, perspective on intimacy that Swift expressed throughout Midnights.