Except this time it was different. Not that I wasn't excited about it, but I was significantly less excited than I was for Speak Now. Because the latter was so magnificent, I was trepidatious and scared that Red would not be. So, on the drive to Target on Monday at half-past eight in the morning, as I was listening to "Last Kiss" and the rest of Speak Now, I prepared myself (I had to - I can't lose two of my idols in the same week). I told myself that it would still be Taylor's music, if it didn't exactly follow in the footsteps of the triumphant third album. It would still be good, even if it wasn't like her previous work. Even if it wasn't country.
And let me tell you, there is very little country here. But there is also more country than others would have you believe. She's branching out into all sorts of genres, but her roots are planted in Nashville.
(Speaking of, is anyone watching the ABC new drama, "Nashville"? I was mesmerised by the performance of "No One Will Ever Love You" in the closing minutes of the second episode, and now I know I want to keep watching.)
So, as it's been two years, this time I was able to sit before an actual fireplace while listening to the new CD - and I was reminded how, five years ago, I had picked up the blue-covered Taylor Swift album and, in a fit of inspiration, turned on the fireplace in order to escalate the listening experience. Then the strands of "Tim McGraw" filled my ears, and a new era of my life began. Sometimes memories do come back so strong it hurts.
I unwrapped the CD - I started with the non-bonus version, even though I had purchased both while at Target - and, as my habit dictates, read through the prologue before I pressed "play" on the CD player I had used for all of the Taylor albums (and most recently for a debut album from my latest celebrity crush, Shane Harper - which
The prologue introduces her definition of red and explains her love for a Pablo Neruda quote, "love is so short, forgetting is so long." She continues, "And when we're trying to move on, the moments we always go back to aren't the mundane ones. They are the moments you saw sparks that weren't really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning." And in case you needed to know more, "...this album is about the other kinds of love that I've recently fallen in and out of. Love that was treacherous, sad, beautiful, and tragic. But most of all, this record is about love that was red."
And then we press play, and discover what that means musically.
"State of Grace" - In the interest of full disclosure, I will divulge that I have already listened to every song on the album nineteen times. At least. And let me tell you, of all sixteen, this is the first of two of which I cannot recall the melody. It's almost boring, which is not something I've ever wanted to say about a Taylor song. I've only recently learned what a 'state of grace' is, but still, this song is unremarkable. Granted, that's how I felt about "Sparks Fly" on the previous album, and it grew on me. I do like what she does with her voice here, how she augments the melody with amazing high notes, so there's that. And I never saw you coming, and I'll never be the same.
"Red" - Losing him was blue, like I've never known / missing him was dark grey, all alone. I love the association of feelings with colours. It's magical. I also love the image of love being like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street / faster than the wind, passionate as sin / ending so suddenly. I mentioned once before that the lyrics of this song are tremendulant, and it's true. The tapestries she paints are magnificent (memorising him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favourite song), and the banjo playing in the background is the perfect accent.
"Treacherous" - I can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away. I was convinced that this would be the last song I'd listen to twelve times, because it starts of low and quiet and unexciting. But then it kicks in, and the build-up of the chorus after the second verse is amazing. Definitely benefits from multiple listens, because it creeps into your mind like the most welcome unexpected guest. Two headlights shine through the sleepless night. And the dynamic triplets in the last part of the chorus (get you, get you alone; think you should, think you should know; and follow you, follow you home) absolutely make the song for me.
"I Knew You Were Trouble." - Everywhere I've looked, people have been describing this song as a 'dubstep-pop' kind of thing. And I have no idea what that means; I've long since deleted the text message from someone I knew that explained it, and I don't care enough to look it up. That notwithstanding, this track is exciting and dramatic and intense. I like the phrase saddest fear. So yes, it's not country, but it's good music. No apologies, he'll never see you cry / pretends he doesn't know that he's the reason why. Plus I appreciate the period in the title, though I don't know why she broke precedent to include it.
"All Too Well" - This was the moment when the album changed for me. Right here. And I almost wish I had heard the other songs after this before I had the experience of this song, because I'm guessing my perception of them would have been a little different, all because of this track. I've never felt the way I did listening to this song. Never in my life. I've never before felt like an interloper, an intruder in a most precious and private memory, but I did with this song. And it was transcendent. And painful. And achingly, tragically beautiful. And unforgettable. It sounds like fall, it sounds like autumn* from the very first second of the acoustic guitar. And then the electric guitar kicks in, accompanied by the occasional striking of the piano chord, and it's a powerful way to be transported to the time of changing leaves and maple lattes and chills in the air. But the magnificence of the song lies in the lyrics, to the point where I can't even begin to pull out a single line or two to highlight here in this paragraph (even though I really want to). Each sentence is its own exquisite one-liner of nostalgia, wonder, despair, longing, and recollection, and, all together, they make a detailed, shining, lyrical photo album. Speaking of: Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red / you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed / your mother's telling stories about you on the T-ball team / you tell me about your past thinking your future was me. This is honestly the most beautiful song she's put out since "Enchanted" on the previous record. Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much / but maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'till you tore it all up.
{*I have this thing where I love couples in the autumn. Autumn leaves falling like pieces into place. Something about that just feels like home to me. I don't know if it's because it's after the summer, and the legend of summer flings that are flung sooner rather than later, so that relationships in the fall seem more serious, or because of some other reason. But whenever I daydream and picture being coupled, it's usually in the autumn, and we're wearing jackets or coats and it's careless but grounded, light but serious and lovely at the same time (I daydream too much). After plaid shirt days, and nights when you made me your own / now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. So that's another reason why my heart completely aches during this song, because it's the fall thing. It breaks me apart, knowing how much she hurt over this. And you call me up again, just to break me like a promise / so casually cruel, in the name of being honest. Somehow it being the autumn makes it all that much worse.}
"22" - Having this come after "All Too Well" is a little too jarring in contrast. This track is heavily Katy Perry-inspired (particularly the noticeably flat pitch of her voice throughout - although it could be flat in an ironic sort of way, since they're dressing up as hipsters), and is absolutely Glee-ready. Really only a matter of time before it appears on that show - especially since part of the hidden notes which make her lyrics so fun to read is DIANNA, namely Dianna Agron. That said, it's still the perfect song for twentysomethings (I should know, being one of them): we're happy, free, confused, and lonely, at the same time / it's miserable and magical... And I like to jump around to it, so that's fun - and end up dreaming, instead of sleeping.
"I Almost Do" - I bet you think I either moved on or hate you, 'cause each time you reach out, there's no reply. This is basically the quintessential 'missing you' song. And it radiates all of the things outlined above in "All Too Well," only with a more wholesale feel. It's great, though, with the wonderful melodic surprises and the way she uses her voice here. We made quite a mess, baby.
"We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" - Yeah. So there's this song. I don't hate it, I really don't. It's just that annoying earworm that you love to hate. You don't hate it, you just pretend you do, because that's fun, too. Dancing around to this one in the bathroom while singing into your toothbrush is also fun. I've been there. I'm really gonna miss you picking fights / and me falling for it, screaming that I'm right.
"Stay Stay Stay" - Ooh, fun. But you carry my groceries and now I'm always laughing... It's catchy, light-hearted, and sweet. Up until the final second when she creepily giggles into the mic and says, "That's so fun!" in a way that makes me a little unnerved. But otherwise, this song is SO unbelievably cute. This morning I said we should talk about it, cause I read you should never leave a fight unresolved / that's when you came in wearing a football helmet, and said "Okay, let's talk."
"The Last Time" - The melody here, in the first of two duets (this one with Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol) is absolutely mesmerising. And intriguing - just when you think you've got it figured out, it changes on you; when you think it'll go sharp, it goes flat, and when you think the voices will go down, they go up instead. Right before your eyes, I'm breaking. The drums in the background build up to the dramatic climaxes excellently, and it's a really lovely song. I also love the way she says the word "wrong" in this is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong.
"Holy Ground" - So this is the second of the two songs I think are unremarkable, and a bit bland. The melody is so fast, she almost seems to be struggling to keep up, and that's why she slows it down a little for the chorus. Spinning like a girl in a brand-new dress. But her voice here sounds really good - I don't know what's different about this song, but her voice comes across mature and clear here, in a way it doesn't on any other track. Back when you fit in my poems like a perfect rhyme.
"Sad Beautiful Tragic" - Good girls: hopeful they'll be, long they will wait. It's remarkable the way she can conjure up visual images with auditory sensations: "All Too Well" sounds like autumn, is about an autumnal relationship; "Sad Beautiful Tragic" really sounds like a train, mentions a train (silence, this train runs off its tracks), and has as its secret code WHILE YOU WERE ON A TRAIN. This is one of those bittersweet and beautiful, poignant and powerful songs that she does so well. It's kind of like the "Last Kiss" of this album, and it carries that mantle very well. Kiss me, try to fix it / could you just try to listen?
"The Lucky One" - I have wracked my brains trying to figure out about whom this song is. And it's funny, because the secret message is, WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW. There's a maturity in this song that is really intense, and the melody is, too. Another name goes up in lights, like diamonds in the sky. It's a great song, and I love the drums in the back. She's smart, too, for writing this song, because it shows how much she doesn't play with the rules of the Hollywood game. They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere / chose the rose garden over Madison Square. I'm not a fan of the building Madison Square (three guesses why) but the image is fantastic.
"Everything Has Changed" - This is the second duet on the album, this time with Ed Sheeran. And it's playful and expectant and cheerful. I'm a sucker for syncopation, and this song is loaded with it, so I love that. Both of the duets on the record were successfully executed, because they rank up there as some of the best tracks. And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies / the beautiful kind, making up for lost time / taking flight.
"Starlight" - You know, I was recently remarking to somebody that the word 'marvellous' is possibly the most rarely-used adjective in the English language. When lo and behold, it's the seventh word in this song, repeated often. I said, oh, my, what a marvellous tune. And I am very appreciative. And I do like this song, I do. But I think it's a little too drum-heavy to be as delicate as suggested in the title, a bit too in-your-face to be ethereal. And she has become incredibly ethereal. He was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me / don't you see the starlight, starlight? don't you dream impossible things?
"Begin Again" - This is the magnificent end to an album. Of course you end a record with a song called "Begin Again," seriously. It shimmers and glitters and sparkles and glimmers with hope and cautious excitement and promise. I think it's strange that you think I'm funny, 'cause he never did. She does such a wonderful job painting the picture with her words, and the melody invites the listener in, and allows for him to dwell on it. It's pensive and slow, but also joyous and exalted. All at the same time. And it's the fitting end to an album where she obviously redefines herself as a musician, an artist, and a songwriter. So it all begins again.
Just a few final collective thoughts on the album as a whole, before I sign off and maybe include a few postscripts that have nothing to do with Red. A friend of mine posted the comment on Facebook that the record is "sexy." And the more I think about that, the more I kind of have to agree with her. I didn't want to at first, my chaste naivete holding me back from seeing it, but I see it now (and, perhaps more importantly, hear it now). Also, finally, every Taylor Swift album takes me back to a place and time, and the sounds of one always conjure up images. Taylor Swift was the soundtrack to my disastrous junior prom, to chemistry homework as a hailstorm pounded on the roof, to my loneliest Valentine's Day, to the beginning of two simultaneous, non-romantic love affairs that have lasted these many years. Fearless reminds me back of being ruinously in love with David, of the hopes and fears and dreams of graduation, of the time I said things to someone who didn't want to hear them, of eating lunch alone, of nights I spent babysitting. Speak Now instantly takes me back to all those evenings during my starving undergrad days when I walked home, slowly, in the pouring rain with a defective umbrella, to a dorm where a pot-smoking roommate was waiting; to the week Harry Potter 7.1 came out and Pat Burns died; to French homework and the flu; to both my first kiss and my first all-nighter. And I guess it kind of makes me a little sad that now, with the release of Red, all of those stories (hers and mine) are now definitely in the past - well-worn and cared-for. Those records are catalog, history, memory. And I can only wonder what sort of recollections I will have with Red, when even it becomes history.
Much love, and thank you for the musik,
Just Another Ordinary Girl
p.s. The next post, my nineteenth of the year, will be my last. Not just for this year, but ever on this blog. Two of the last three song posts have been about daydreams, and the next one will be, too. That's not enough. I can't do this anymore, and I'm tired of feeling as though I've poured too much of myself into an anonymous blog read by too few people. My real life is lonely and boring, and for the first time ever, I am frightened to death of the future. I need to figure that out - why, for example, when I strive to keep the rest of the house organised and neat, my personal bedroom is a chaotic mess. I don't even write good songs anymore - if I ever did. What is it that Dumbledore said in the first Harry Potter? Oh, right. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.
