Welcome to the Wretched Writers Branch of the Taylor Swift Sanatorium
Slip brains through slot in door
The Tortured Poets Department, Taylor Swift’s new double album, is predictable and exhausting. It’s tedious. It’s boring. It’s medium-level content, engineered for mass consumption. In contrast, Beyonce’s latest album, Cowboy Carter, is quite enjoyable. At least she tried something new and interesting. It’s a far cry better than whining about failed relationships for the 13th time.
When the album dropped, people were losing their shit. Friends of ours hosted a listening party. I heard the first few songs on the album and was disappointed and bored. I’ve read a few reviews who agree that it’s pretty okay, and a few others that have obviously drunk the Kool-Aid.
My wife tells the kids not to yuck someone’s yum, so I’m not going to say Taylor Swift is bad, because she’s not. She’s just not that great.
At the risk of sounding like a cranky old man, I know I’m not her target demographic. But I’m also quite liberal and love that the Right Wing is scared to death of her. Reconciling these things is hard to balance because I just don’t think she’s that good.
When I tell people how I don’t think she’s very good, I’m always cautious. I’m always met with defensiveness as if I’ve…
