Midnights and subtlety
yes I am actually doing a full piece just on Taylor ok
I started writing this before the whole ticketmaster fiasco, and now I’m completing it after. needless to say, I don’t have tickets. but no point in lingering on sadness.
I already wrote once that it took me a second or third listen to really start liking Midnights. the album seems to have struck not just one chord but a few—I don’t know that those chords are in harmony. my impression of the album from a first listen was just as hazy and vague as my memory of that impression now. I expected something that was… more of a culmination, following the brilliant folklore, the sometimes misguided evermore, and the new yet familiar intensity of Red (Taylor’s Version). but Midnights was… muted, like I was stumbling through mist trying to figure out what was actually there to see.
I think that mist has cleared, at least a little.
if you listen to Midnights end to end for the first time, you actually might have trouble telling the songs apart from one another. at least, I did. there’s a polish, an aggressive normality to the entire soundscape. Lavender Haze kicked things off with punchy beats that weren’t punchy enough. a trap beat was overwhelmed with ghostly tones in Maroon—The Great War trampled over the staccato with keyboards, synth bass, electric guitar.
it feels like everything all at once. the blend of songs felt not quite as haunting as Mirrorball, not as agonized as Red, not as bold as Don’t Blame Me, not as pleading as Love Story (the original version—Taylor’s Version doesn’t sound so pleading either). despite not being a lot of things, it’s incredibly introspective. the insecurity in Anti-Hero is obvious, the disclosure in 3am’s additions palpable:
God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be
The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind
I regret you all the time
I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep
The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign
I regret you all the time
there’s clearly something intentional about the almost-but-not-quite-repetitive album. it’s unfortunate that fans were blaming Jack Antonoff for its sound. it’s even more unfortunate that they were blaming anyone at all.
banality can be a virtue. in this case, it’s a familiar canvas on which to splatter the paint of years of growing, living, feeling. the contrast is as important as it is enchanting. it’s easy for a tune to sound like nothing special, but not everyone is trying to write guitar riffs like The Smiths—you’ve got to listen to the words sometimes. among all the haze, there’s somebody speaking to you.
~ words ~
What should be over burrowed under my skin
In heart-stopping waves of hurt
I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze
Tell me what are my words worth
words are worth a lot—Midnights isn’t a boring album but a glass building architected by a better wielder of words than I am.
I was going to end this with the usual, but I just received this message for reading group in an hour and think this is a better ending. toodles
