Flashback in a Film Reel

A Review of Taylor Swift's album folklore

Taylor Swift folklore album photoshoot. Photo courtesy of Beth Garrabrant and Republic Records — Taylor Swift *folklore* album photoshoot. Photo courtesy of Beth Garrabrant and Republic Records

by Natalie Marshall ‘21 and Sage Wentzell-Brehme ‘21

Disclaimer: This is what happens when an English major and practically an English major (but really only a minor) who have no background in music theory try to write an album review. We apologize to anyone who understands how to actually analyze music.

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We (Natalie Marshall and Sage Wentzell-Brehme) have been best friends for three years, roommates for two, and Taylor Swift fans for ten. The fall of our first year, in our Pom double, we bonded over Taylor Swift’s music, particularly her album reputation which had just come out. Both of us agreed that we defined different times in our lives by Taylor’s albums and that certain songs are forever linked to parts of our adolescence. Over time, our shared love for her music has become part of our friendship. All Taylor Swift-related news and content must be shared as soon as possible and discussed in great depth.

On July 23rd (although who really knew what a date was by that point in quarantine), we woke up to a frantic text in a group chat: “Y’ALL, CHECK INSTA, THERE IS URGENT NEWS.” This is how we learned that Taylor Swift was releasing a new album the next day. Given how much buildup and marketing have preceded Taylor’s albums in the past, we were both pleasantly surprised that folklore was released without much fanfare. This decision felt appropriate for the current times and rendered the album a type of gift for everyone to share. Perhaps this sounds overdramatic, but after loving her music for so long and living through the events of this past year, it truly felt as though this album could not have come at a more needed time.

Several weeks after folklore came out, Taylor began releasing playlists, or “chapters” as she calls them, that break the album into thematic sections. There are four in total—the escapism chapter, the saltbox house chapter, the sleepless nights chapter, and the yeah I showed up at your party chapter—each containing six songs. We decided early on that we wanted to write something together about folklore, but as reviewing it in its entirety felt daunting (and likely would have been overwhelming for readers), we each chose one chapter to write about.

We have distilled countless heated conversations, intense text discussions, and long playlist-making sessions into several paragraphs about two chapters from folklore. Our love (and in particular our shared love) of Taylor Swift could be discussed in many different articles. We could tell you about how Sage can't hear "White Horse" without thinking about drives in middle school with her two (sadly) former best friends. Or about how in freshman year of high school, Natalie would play “Teardrops on My Guitar” and “Last Kiss” over and over again on the piano. We could tell you about our midnight watch party for the "ME!" single when it dropped in May 2019. We have both grown up with Taylor and have a whole life’s worth of stories with her. But this is not a book, so instead, we have tried to give a little insight into how much it means to us that folklore was released at this particular moment in time. We hope that you will perhaps see these songs in a new light.

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Sage:

Taylor Swift in folklore album photoshoot. Photo courtesy of Beth Garrabrant and Republic Records — Taylor Swift in *folklore* album photoshoot. Photo courtesy of Beth Garrabrant and Republic Records

folklore as a whole is fantastic at evoking imagery, and listening to the escapism chapter feels a bit like wandering on windy moors or traipsing through misty forests (like those pictured in the album art). And if that isn’t my energy, I don’t know what is. Swift’s indie softness and melodic musings on the inner psyche have created the “indie record that’s much cooler than mine” she referred to in “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together.” Like the rest of the album, escapism is melancholy, ethereal, and contemplative—the perfect playlist for a sentimental Pisces.

The six songs on escapism taste of yearning, of searching for something or someone or someplace. escapism is full of longing, whether it’s for escaping one's own mind, position in life, or even location. Interestingly, it offers listeners their own form of escapism by immersing them in a series of tiny worlds found within each song. I think this is part of the reason I’m so drawn to this chapter in particular. If there is anything I’ve been looking for these past several months, it’s escape.

Swift takes a wistful tone on “seven,” the second song in this chapter. “Please picture me in the trees,” she implores in the opening line, as though her childhood friend picturing her as an innocent will preserve her own innocence. With lines like “braids like a pattern / love you to the Moon and to Saturn,” Swift captures the childlike enchantment and connection between best friends. This song feels like wrapping myself up in the quilt my mother made me for my tenth birthday while flipping through photo albums from elementary school. It's comforting quality makes “seven” my current favorite on the album.

Swift transitions from memorializing childhood wonder to pondering humanity’s darker side. With “epiphany,” she draws striking parallels between war with, “Sir, I think he's bleedin' out,” and the pandemic with, “Doc, I think she’s crashing out.” I sometimes feel as though the barrage of news coverage has desensitized me to the everyday horrors of the world, but Swift manages to distill the overwhelming tragedy of the pandemic into a few heartbreaking lines: “Something med school / Did not cover / Someone's daughter / Someone's mother / Holds your hand through plastic now...but you dream of some epiphany / Just one single glimpse of relief / To make some sense of what you've seen.” This is Swift’s true gift: her ability to portray profound emotion in a few lyrics.

The progression from “epiphany” to “cardigan” highlights the idea that young people are often dismissed by society as shallow and apathetic, when in fact they are just as capable of depth of feeling and as affected by terrible events as adults. “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” sings Swift at the end of the chorus on “cardigan.” This point is particularly clear in light of the pandemic, which is hitting young people just as hard as any other sector of the population. Aside from this interesting placement, I find “cardigan” a bit underwhelming. As part of the Teenage Love Triangle trio, along with “august” and “betty,” “cardigan” portrays the story of youthful infidelity from the perspective of Betty, the cheated-on. It captures the uncertainty and insecurity of being a teenager, but it's not one of my favorite songs.

“mirrorball,” however, is fantastic. Swift uses the soft pop ballad to depict the self-doubt and chameleon-like qualities social anxiety inspires in a person: “I can change everything about me to fit in.” The metallic drums and piano on the chorus spin a love story, “Spinning in my highest heels, love / shining just for you,” while the bridge cuts to the heart of imposter syndrome, “I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I’m still on that trapeze / I’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me.” Wow, Taylor, just speak to my deepest fears, why don’t you?

“the lakes” and “exile” are quite different in their lyrical content, one the continuation of a love story, the other the fraught end. But the melodies, the soft pianos and string instruments, and Swift’s lilting voice bookend the chapter perfectly. Both songs clearly reference escape: “I’m setting off, but not without my muse” ends the chorus of “the lakes,” while “exile” repeats, “I’m leavin’ out the side door.”

Photo courtesy of James Kemp on Unsplash

The first song in escapism, “the lakes” is a cross of The Secret Garden and cottagecore lesbian energy, with whimsical lyrics such as “I want auroras and sad prose / I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet because I haven’t moved in years.” Taylor has somehow expressed my dream of settling down with my wife in a little cottage in the English countryside in song form. The atmospheric, overly dramatic tone and natural imagery suit my personality perfectly: “Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?”/... / Those Windermere Peaks look like the perfect place to cry /... / While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love / And insurmountable grief.” Swift even slips in some literary subtext: “ I've come too far to watch some name-dropping sleaze / Tell me what are my Wordsworth,” because Wordsworth is one of the Romantic poets who lived and died in England’s Lake District. The combination of sweeping orchestral music and melodramatic lyrics makes “the lakes” one of my favorite songs.

escapism concludes with “exile,” a husky duet between Bon Iver and Swift. On the surface it appears conversational, but rather than any sort of give and take, the two former lovers talk over each other, underscoring the miscommunication that ended their relationship: “you never gave a warning sign / I gave so many signs...I never learned to read your mind / never learned to read my mind.” The raspy undertones of Bon Iver’s voice fit perfectly on this song. And once again, Swift nails the lyrics: “can see you starin’, honey / Like he’s just your understudy /... / second, third, and hundredth chances / balancing on breaking branches / those eyes add insult to injury.” The low dip in Swift’s voice on “understudy” and “injury” gets me every time. It feels resigned, as though she is giving in to frustration. But for me, it is the opening lines of the bridge, with their heartbreaking mix of hopelessness and resentment, that reiterate Swift’s songwriting prowess: “So step right out, there is no amount / of crying I can do for you / All this time / We always walked a very thin line.”

Regardless of the specific emotion explored by a song, Swift invests all of herself in each one. Everything, from the melody to the lyrics to her sometimes experimental vocals, comes together to paint a picture in each song. Swift commits to her emotional landscapes and pulls no punches. Although understated on the surface, folklore is the most emotionally complex Swift has ever dared to be. She is introspective and more cognizant of her own shortcomings than ever, but still unafraid.

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Natalie:

folklore might match my broader taste in music better than any of Taylor Swift’s other albums. Don’t get me wrong, I love Taylor and all her music—Red is still probably my all-time favorite—but aspects of folklore, with its wistful ballads and playful folk numbers, just feel more like me. I like slow, sad songs. Especially when it comes to pop. And in general, I tend to gravitate towards music that’s more emotionally fraught, where the emotions are raw and close to the surface. I adore songs that build. Songs that start slow and soft, but by the bridge have reached such an overwhelming height that listening to them feels like waves crashing over you. I like to feel like I’m floating, drowning even, in a sea of sound.

Given these preferences, it’s perhaps unsurprising that the sleepless nights chapter is my favorite of Swift’s “chapters.” sleepless nights features six tracks: “exile,” “hoax,” “my tears ricochet,” “illicit affairs,” “this is me trying,” and “mad woman.” The songs are dark and intense in tone and thematically tied together by the crumbling relationships they depict. The perspectives taken in the songs vary, ranging from raw and sorrowful to resigned and resentful. Despite these variations, all six songs are similar in one striking way: they all reflect the intangible, intoxicating, infuriating quality of having something––or someone––you can’t stop thinking about in your head. Something that no matter how hard you try, you cannot put out of your mind. Something that keeps you up at night.

“exile,” the first song on sleepless nights, is also the first song I heard from the album, and it remains one of my favorites. Bon Iver’s aching voice is heartbreaking and blends perfectly with Swift’s. Ironically, as good as they sound together, the personas Bon Iver and Swift take on could not be less in-sync. This is best exhibited in the bridge and the outro where the duet becomes a call-and-response, with Bon Iver singing, “You never gave a warning sign” and Swift responding, “I gave so many signs.” Although they sing to each other, building off each other's words, they don’t hear one another. In these lines, the disconnect and betrayal is palpable. It’s impossible not to hear the loss and regret when Bon Iver sings, “I never learned to read your mind” or the simultaneous frustration and relief when Swift sings, “I’m not your problem anymore.” Ultimately, “exile’s” success lies in how authentically this miscommunication and breakdown in the relationship is conveyed—the divide between the two lovers is felt rather than simply expressed.

Photo courtesy of Michelle Tresemer on Unsplash

Similar in theme to “exile,” “my tears ricochet” (my favorite off the album) explores the aftermath of an unhealthy relationship. The funeral imagery combined with the ethereal choral singing at the beginning create an unshakable haunting feeling that seeps into you. In tone and imagery, I am reminded of the Emily Dickinson poem “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain”––both depict funerals, and more significantly, both consider what it means to be alone. Unlike Dickinson's poem, however, Swift’s song has the added component of being about the aftermath of a relationship. With “my tears ricochet,” Swift strikes a balance between outward resentment and inward pain, at once lashing out (“And if I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes, too”) and exposing herself (“I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace”). Although dirge-like at the beginning, “my tears ricochet” builds as much as, if not more than, any song on the album. By the time the bridge arrives, the song vibrates through my body and all I can do is let it envelop me. The pain in Swift’s voice when she sings “And I can go anywhere I want / Anywhere I want, just not home” is heartrending, beautiful, and indescribable. Swift hits the mark with this song and her title lyrics say it all: her emotions ricochet through every verse, every note, every rest.

If I could direct people to one part of a song on folklore that they may not have given much thought to before, it would be verse 2 of “this is me trying.” Themes of inner turmoil, inadequacy, and a broken relationship in the first verse are followed by brutal honesty and self-reflection in the second. Swift draws listeners in with the changing cadence and increasing tempo as she sings, “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 / Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here / Pouring out my heart to a stranger / But I didn’t pour the whiskey.” By speeding up in the middle of these lines, but slowing down by the time she sings “whiskey,” Swift viscerally conveys the feeling of scrambling and then falling behind.

Taylor Swift in folklore album photoshoot. Courtesy of Beth Garrabrant — Taylor Swift in *folklore* album photoshoot. Courtesy of Beth Garrabrant

Much as in “my tears ricochet” (and, let's be honest, all of her songs), the bridge in “this is me trying” is phenomenal: “And it’s hard to be at a party when you feel like an open wound / It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you / You’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.” The first line in particular, so straightforward in its observation, hits me every time I hear it. I find it impossible not to recall times when being in public felt unbearable, when the skin between me and the world was so thin that I couldn’t stand it. It is not uncommon for Swift’s lyrics to prompt this level of self-reflection, but there is something about the confessional quality of “this is me trying,” at once hypnotizing and contagious, that compels me to reply in kind. I’m not sure I would ever rank “this is me trying” above “exile” or “my tears ricochet,” but there is something in its rawness that is impossible to ignore.

The other three songs on sleepless nights, “hoax,” “illicit affairs,” and “mad woman,” though arguably less noteworthy than the three I’ve discussed at length, are nonetheless worth listening to. “hoax,” which features spare lyrics and a repetitive piano line, evokes the paradoxical nature of an unhealthy relationship. This is best exemplified by the chorus, where Swift sings mournfully, “Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.” At times monotonous, Swift’s sincerity nonetheless shines through; listeners cannot help but empathize with her as she explains, “Don’t want no other shade of blue but you / No other sadness in the world would do.”

“illicit affairs,” meanwhile, takes up the infidelity plotline found elsewhere on folklore and explores it from the perspective of the “other woman,” perpetually trapped somewhere between a “mercurial high” and a “godforsaken mess.” If at times “illicit affairs” leans on clichés, Swift makes up for it by perfectly capturing the conflicting feelings of betrayal and self-blame that occur when a relationship you knew from the beginning wouldn’t work ultimately falls apart.

The final song on sleepless nights, “mad woman,” is a commentary on the “emotional woman” stereotype. It incorporates some of the themes at the heart of “The Man” from Lover, while throwing in a sardonic, piano-ballad twist. On the whole, I find “mad woman” a little underwhelming, but it is interesting to consider as the end of the chapter. By ending the playlist in this way, Swift underlines the role of misrepresentation in a crumbling relationship, as if to say that in the end, the hardest thing to accept is that your lover never knew you in the way you thought they did.

What I love about the songs on sleepless nights is how they so perfectly evoke the multifaceted experience of a relationship in breakdown. There are a lot of songs about heartbreak and lost love, but I don’t think many are as successful as these six at exposing the mundane yet all-consuming thought processes that define the end of a relationship. They celebrate detail and specificity while remaining broad enough that when listeners hear them, they know exactly what Swift is feeling as she sings each verse. I think this is one thing that makes her such a talented, successful songwriter—her lyrics and music don’t just express how she feels: they compel you to feel along with her.

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As it turns out, while we do not agree on the particulars, we do both feel strongly that folklore is one of Taylor’s most raw and authentic albums, and love it for that reason. We also agree that the album was released at an important time in our lives and has offered us some comfort in these unpredictable times. Taylor has once again given us the album that we didn’t know we needed.

Natalie Marshall ‘21 (nmarsha3) and Sage Wentzell-Brehme ‘21 (swentzel) will die on the hill that “All Too Well” has the best bridge of all time. From the September/October 2020 issue.