“THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT” – Taylor Swift

Album: THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

Artist: Taylor Swift

Year: 2024

Genre: Synthpop, Folk Pop

Grade: B-

Taylor Swift’s rise to world’s biggest popstar has been calculated and coincidental, from her high-profile relationships to her record-setting Eras Tour to her highly publicized masters dispute — an endless flood of content always keeps her in the press. And it’s not like she’s famous for just being famous: combined with her Taylor’s Version re-releases, The Tortured Poets Department (plus bonus disc The Anthology) is already Swift’s eighth album of the 2020s, which adds up to nearly 13 hours of material.

As with any pop superstar, fatigue inevitably sets in. The Tortured Poets Department is simply too much: it traverses the same sonic territory as Midnights, it definitely doesn’t need to be two hours long and every song ends up sounding the same. Then again, as with any pop superstar, an average or uninspired release will literally have zero effect on Swift’s reputation. She could put out Lulu and the reception would be inconsequential, if not acclaimed.

I’d wager that the four Taylor’s Version albums work against The Tortured Poets Department — after re-recording your already-famous classic albums, it’s no surprise that the new material will pale in comparison. Especially when the new material, unlike Folklore or Evermore, retreads familiar territory.

For the most part, I’d blame producers/collaborators Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner for the album’s boring sound. The midtempo music is spare and unimaginative, built around soft chords and reverberations that hover and ultimately fade into the background. No melodies are dictated by the instrumentation; rather, the music purposely tries not to get in the way of Swift’s vocals.

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Meanwhile, Swift’s vocals are smooth and rich, sometimes taking on a Lana Del Ray drawl or a Lorde roar, but no singer is good enough to carry an album this musically monotonous. Her double-tracked falsetto, usually such a glorious hook, isn’t enough to get us through the slog.

And while much has been made of Swift’s lyrics, as with any self-declared “tortured poet,” the words ultimately get lost in the doldrums. Her lovelorn stories, which Swifties will pore over trying to determine if they are about Matty Healy, Joe Alwyn, Travis Kelce or someone else, are highly detailed and very literate, with occasionally exquisite vocab and occasionally cringeworthy similes/metaphors/analogies, all of which would come across as endearing if it weren’t for the unimaginative music.

For an artist of Swift’s caliber, The Tortured Poets Department is mediocre compared to her usual high standards. Here’s to hoping she is more ambitious in the future, and here’s to hoping she takes a much-needed break to reset her artistic inclinations. Less is more, as the old adage goes. But for billionaires, the adage might be that everything is never enough.

NOTES & CHORDS

• Disc two, The Anthology, has better arrangements than its disc one counterpart, hearkening back to Swift’s country-folk roots. However, the overall products are interchangeable. It’s essentially the same type of song 31 times.

• That’s why it’s no surprise that the first song (“Fortnight” featuring Post Malone) is the one getting the most airplay. The entire album is too dense to parse through, and so the most accessible single is the one that doesn’t require scrolling to be found.

• I’m drawn to the folk-pop ballads more than the synthpop ones, particularly “But Daddy I Love Him!” and “The Albatross.”

• Not loving the Florence + the Machine feature on “Florida!!!” Likewise, Taylor’s slightly ad-libbed ending to “I Can Do It with a Broken Heart” made me wince.

• Good lyric: “God save the most judgmental creeps/Who say they want what’s best for me/Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see/Thinking it can change the beat.”

• Cringe lyric yet charming: “You know how to ball, I know Aristotle/Brand new, full throttle/Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto.”

• Bad lyric: “I scratch your head, you fall asleep/Like a tattooed golden retriever.”

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