Various individuals exhibit strong dislikes towards Taylor Swift, while others adore her. I, for one, find myself perplexed by her appeal.
I'm not really feeling Taylor Swift, and I'm fine with admitting that. (DISCLAIMER: I'm not bashing her at all. She seems like a great person and I wish her all the happiness in the world. Since she's become a political figure lately, I'm only talking about her music and her artistic career here.)
It's liberating to just not care about something, isn't it? When friends start talking about her concerts or their favorite songs, I listen politely, like they're discussing table tennis or French dubstep, and a calming sensation washes over me.
I don't have to like things, I think to myself. I don't need to dislike them either. I can just watch them pass by like a leaf floating down a river, and say, "Well, that certainly is a thing!"
It's a lot harder when that thing is supposed to be made for you to enjoy.
While Taylor Swift can appeal to anyone, some stats show that her fans are mostly white suburban millennial women like me. Smart folks have written about the tension between her role as a "voice for a generation" and how much that voice represents or doesn't represent people of color. That's a whole different discussion, but it's not what I'm getting at here.
What bothers me is how her music is often framed among my peers (or at least my demographic according to the census) as an unspoiled communion of girlhood: A positive review of "The Tortured Poets Department" in The Spectator called her "the tortured voice of millennials." A BBC NewsNight guest said, "The uniqueness of Taylor Swift is that she speaks for an audience that is not always spoken for."
I get that people find a connection there, but there are only so many times you can hear lyrics from "Cardigan" or "Cruel Summer" invoked as if they're prayers before you start to wish you could understand what the big deal is.
You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.
You showed me colors I can't see with anyone else.
Great lines! Beautiful lines. To many fans, those stanzas are life-affirming poetry or at least quotable enough to be printed on shirts or throw pillows or mugs as symbols of their identity.
But are they really that unique? I've never gotten anything from a Taylor Swift song about love, loss, heartbreak, revenge, shame, or self-actualization that I couldn't have gotten from dozens of other artists. It almost feels like I skipped a day in a White woman's class where they taught all the hidden connections between our paths and hers.
I respect Taylor Swift fans. I've seen thousands of women at the start of a race, belting out "You Belong With Me" at 4:15am, and it looked like fun. There's no reason to view that as a negative.
Maybe that's why not caring about Taylor Swift stings a little. It feels like I'm missing out on something. It feels like the gears of my life, and maybe even my identity, would be a bit smoother if I could have a single independent thought about Taylor Swift that wasn't "She's a relatable role model" or "I admire her dedication to good bangs!"
If you think this apathy comes from a place of snobbery, you'd be wrong! I don't have great taste in music. My most-played Spotify tracks are mostly Spanish gospel hymns and stuff with names like "soothing 438 mHz tone therapy for very sensitive people."
Until recently, admitting that you don't like Taylor Swift's music was a strange, polarizing statement. Say it in the wrong circles, and even a mild admission could get you labeled a hater, a misogynist, a contrarian bore, or one of those grown-up women who still plays the "I'm not like other girls" card.
Recently, The Cut published a piece by a woman who ended a friendship over her friend's dislike for Taylor Swift. More alarmingly, Paste Magazine didn't credit its critical review of "Poets" because they got threats of violence from readers who disagreed with the review. While these are extreme cases, there's always some anxiety in admitting that you don't care about something you seem expected to care passionately about.
Since she's so popular and widespread - even her relationship with football player Travis Kelce has skyrocketed her fame - Taylor Swift is often pulled into bigger cultural and political conversations. This isn't one of those conversations. This is just about her music and the fans who identify with her. Both parties get my respect, but unfortunately, neither will ever have my understanding.
If you don't love Taylor Swift, if you don't hate her, if she has no real impact on your life, it's probably safe to come out now. Go, embrace your apathy, and be free.
Despite my indifference towards Taylor Swift's music, I can't deny the impact her entertainment career has had on popular culture. In social gatherings, the mention of her name often sparks lively discussions and shared experiences.
Even if her music doesn't resonate with me, I acknowledge the entertainment value she provides for her dedicated fans and the entertainment industry as a whole.
