If you are like me, who happens to be a huge fan of Taylor Swift while also having a borderline masochistic relationship to sad music, then you were probably counting the days for Red (Taylor’s Version), specifically in anticipation of the “From the Vault” track featuring Phoebe Bridgers, “Nothing New.” I frantically refreshed my Spotify page a minute before its release, and after continuous failures due to the terrible UC Berkeley wifi, I finally listened to the album and track that I’ve been waiting for.
I usually enjoy a good Taylor Swift lyric, and the lyrics of this track were especially captivating for its illustration of Swift’s feelings towards her inevitable replacement with the pop princess of the next generation. But as I listened to this song more and more, my sympathy faded and a feeling of alienation replaced it. I grew critical of the privilege she exuded through her songwriting. In the middle of the song Swift sings “Lord what will become of me, once I’ve lost my novelty.” She sings this line with desperation, so much so that your average Taylor Swift fan can’t help but feel for her sorrow. But it was also like a big slap in the face. That’s the biggest problem you had; you were worried about losing your uniqueness? In no way am I invalidating her feelings during this time because it is her right and her right only to have agency in her songwriting, but the problems we face often come relative to our specific privileges surrounded by gender, class, race, disability, and more. That’s why Taylor Swift, a rich white woman, has the privilege to have a loss of novelty as an impending issue, whereas a poor woman of color will face issues that are undeniably much much harder. As a student at UC Berkeley, my impending issues are passing my tests, trying to decide my major, and worrying about getting a job once I graduate. But I realize that having these problems is a privilege in and of itself because I get to go to a university, an opportunity I get because my parents have the financial means to care about their children’s education.
However, Taylor Swift often seems to completely ignore her privileges and hyperfocus herself on her one front of oppression: being a woman. In “The Man,” Taylor Swift is unapologetically a rich white woman’s ally when she says, “What’s it like to brag about raking in dollars? / And getting bitches and models? / And it’s all good if you’re bad / And it’s okay if you’re mad / If I was out flashing my dollars / I’d be a bitch not a baller.” She makes it clear the only thing harder than being a rich white man is being a rich white woman, and her way of calling out these double standards rooted in misogyny are ill-intentioned because she tells her audience: I want to flex my dollars too and get angry and want to get in on the fun of toxic hustle culture too. But as a feminist, shouldn’t she be questioning the root of patriarchy that encourages this mentality in men? If it’s so obviously harmful, why is her critique of this double standard only about how women can’t do it too, instead of trying to tear down this culture from its roots? Is Taylor’s picture of gender equality only achieved when women can also be dicks in the same way men are? In my opinion, that is a depressing, horrifying reality to strive for.
It is apparent throughout her history that she refuses to comprehend feminism at a deeper level than the one-dimensional interpretation that benefits her. For example, let’s look back at the feud between her and Nicki Minaj at the 2015 VMA’s. Minaj was calling out the VMA’s favoritism towards women with thin bodies, to which Taylor Swift tweeted back about how wrong it is of Minaj to “pit women against each other.” Afterward, Minaj promoted a series of articles about the underlying racism in the music industry that got Taylor’s video nominated while Minaj wasn’t. The feud ended with Swift’s apology. Although Swift apologized, this is yet another example of Swift making any criticism directed towards her a misogynistic issue, even though Minaj was clearly discussing the underlying racism in the music industry. We see through these examples that the victim narrative that Swift portrays is more tone-deaf than empowering, and her mode of feminism does more harm than good.
So with this Red re-release, I admire what she has done to take ownership of her music. Because artists usually don’t own their music in the music industry today, her accomplishment opens a path for other artists to do so, and it deserves to be celebrated. Despite all this, we have to acknowledge that her activism is—inherently white. She is right that the music industry is very much male-dominated, and for a woman to challenge these norms are admirable. She has used her platform numerous times on how much harder it is for women to make it in the music industry compared to men, which is an example of how Swift used her platform for good. But listening to this re-release, and specifically my most anticipated track “Nothing New” featuring Phoebe Bridgers, it felt hypocritical when I later learned that Bridgers is the first woman to have a verse on any Taylor song, even as she speaks on the hardships of women to make it in the music industry. Women in Swift’s songs have always been forced to do backing vocals (HAIM, The Chicks, Marren Morris) while the men in her songs have always sung lyrics. And I grew even more skeptical when I heard that she is selling a keychain with the engraving “F*ck the patriarchy” for 20 dollars, because this is a blatantly performative portrait of feminism that is obviously intentioned solely towards her profit. It is the inevitable fact that she still is to this day the white feminist we know, and has used her feminist image for her personal gain at times. Because of this, my relationship with her as an artist will always be ambivalent, with both skepticism towards her character and love for her music.
This past week has been so much fun for me and my friends because of this re-release. It was a nice feeling to have my heart flooded with nostalgia as I sang “I knew you were trouble (Taylor’s Version)” on the rooftop, and I was beyond excited to hear the infamous “All too well (10-minute version)” that we’ve all been waiting for. Though I love this woman’s music because she has practically raised me, it doesn’t excuse her from valid criticism. On the contrary, we should continue to call her out, because it is our responsibility as consumers to make sure that those with a platform use it for genuine intentions. The same goes for any artist who has a problematic platform. Being a fan and being critical aren’t mutually exclusive, especially for someone like Taylor Swift who has such a massive following. Without a fan base that holds an artist accountable, the artist can advocate a harmful narrative that damages a group of people without recourse.
Written by Eric Min Young Park
Featured Image by Taylor Swift