the last time i was truly surprised by something, it was when taylor swift released her eight album folklore in july of 2020, in the middle of a summer that never seemed to end. it revitalized me in this strange, alchemic way that reminded me of who i was in the past muddled with whatever i was in the present. at the end of this year, folklore said she had a sad older sister, and evermore became another surprise release. the second time i was truly surprised.

the trying times of this year has brought us not one, but two, surprise cabin-in-the-woods albums from taylor. and somehow, it was everything we needed to get through isolation in this cold winter. folklore was the fading light from a dissipating source of warmth; evermore is the frost from the chill that never left.


evermore: a review

i loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found into your lives.

if folklore was full of fever dreams, then evermore is full of spellbound reveries—explodes the sonic universe of folklore with freeform character studies, sketches of stories and secrets that don’t belong to her. she’s mastered singing about her life; now she’s singing about everyone else’s imagined one.

at end of evermore, there’s a lot going on at the moment.


why i am qualified to have an opinion about taylor swift’s music

(in case i ever needed more qualification on this matter)

  • have been listening to t.swift for over a decade, i know her discography inside and out
  • quite literally grew up listening to her albums
  • bon iver defined my middle school ipod, make of that what you will
  • have been listening to the national for years (high violet is one of the greatest albums)
  • am obsessed with bleachers + jack antonoff production



  • first favorites: gold rush, champagne problems, coney island, marjorie, cowboy like me
  • getting warmer: evermore, dorothea, tolerate it, no body no crime, willow, long story short
  • need more listens: happiness, ‘tis the damn season, ivy, closure



❄



on the first listen

  1. willow — taylor said this song sounds like casting a spell, and the loose thread of peter + wendy’s magic lingers from cardigan is back with a witchy elizabethan twist. gorgeous music video (and gold strings of fate!)
  2. champagne problems — the piano in the beginning sounds like new year’s day; the lyrics are like broken stanzas of half-rhymes she jotted down in a notebook, that bubbled up to the surface after some time apart. someone else’s love story co-written with her current lover.
  3. gold rush — her love of gatsby and the cavalier irreverence of being young in a material world. glimmering jewels, lush fabrics. the repeated motif of a beautiful and shiny exterior, turbulent and hollow interior. if mirrorball was about gossip girl.
  4. ’tis the damn season — contrary to the most brilliant song title on the album, i am so disappointed this is not actually a christmas song. this could have been christmas tree farm 2.0, but instead the title is bait for the choral rhyme of “weekend” with “season.”
  5. tolerate it — the bar for track 05 has been set high by its predecessors, this one is probably mid to high. taylor no longer tolerates anything and that soft anger and resignation shows. head low, barbed wire, battle heroes. “footnotes in the story of your life”
  6. no body, no crime (ft. haim) — if getaway car was about a couple off her debut country album. musical arrangement is heavy with the haim influences, especially in the harmony of the backing vocals and harmonica. this is fargo meets taylor swift’s western murder-mystery epic
  7. happiness — the silent calm of peace, soft waves crashing against the rocky coast of an abandoned beach. the theramin on the background is all jack antonoff. for a song about happiness, it’s oddly somber (thank u, next but made in taylor’s quarantine halo). green lights, beautiful fools.
  8. dorothea — dorothea is in the same friend group as betty. but then dorothea also grew up, moved away + got a job in the big city, wondered if her best years were behind her. that same wistful earnestness for the earlier years (the mark of taylor at 31 looking back at 13)
  9. coney island (feat. the national) — i really like this one, conjures coney island during the off-summer: the abandoned boardwalk and memories of a ghost-town relationship. matt berginger’s voice on this is great, but this duet doesn’t break your heart the way that exile does.
  10. ivy — this one goes very folksy. there’s this old-timey feel to it that makes you feel like you’re at a renaissance faire. it’s about someone who grows on you like ivy, like folklore’s illicit affairs (no realism, all fantasy) and tempered with a dreamy quality to it.
  11. cowboy like me — at this point taylor is a saloon owner in the wild west and collecting the stories of tired travelers and writing songs about their lovelorn affairs and missed connections. backing vocals by marcus mumford are you kidding me what timeline am i in
  12. long story short — the lyric video for this is courier new on a middle school ~ girlyphotography ~ tumblr photo. there’s this eager hopefulness to this one that feels like a vestige of early-2000s pop single/late 90s teen romcom “i’m all about you”
  13. marjorie — why does taylor swift’s grandmother look like an old hollywood actress, in that retro jackie o-influenced glamour. if the last great american dynasty met and settled down with the guy from epiphany. operatic vocals in the background. a beautiful homage to grandparents, who are always here watching.
  14. closure — by the way this is arranged, this is a bonus track off the newest bon iver album feat taylor swift. this for a year that has given us so little closure…and left us an unresolved and anxious mess (we really aren’t doing better). so no, this song really doesn’t work.
  15. evermore (feat. bon iver) — forevermore, for evermore. bon iver came in and saved this song. but tragically, this is not the duet call back and forth that exile was (they really harmonize so beautifully). bon iver’s music is made of cold, desolate winters and that is the perfect last note to end on.
  16. right where you left me [bonus] — if you’ve ever felt stuck, frozen in time, while everyone else moved on without you and somehow you didn’t get the memo because you’ve been in the same place you always said you would be, but it’s just you at an empty table in an abandoned room. anyway, “she’s still twenty-three; inside her fantasy”
  17. it’s time to go [bonus] — saying goodbye is hard. the final track on evermore convinces you that sometimes you need to do it for your own good. perhaps an allegory to her own life at a former fork in the road.