Abigail True
9/10
I’ve been a fan of Taylor Swift since I was five, when I first heard “Love Story” on the radio of my mother’s car and subsequently made the decision to commit myself entirely to her music for the rest of my life. Her albums color my memories, exist as little glimpses into my past, into who we each were in those long-ago moments. And all these years later, I’m still a listener, still eagerly awaiting each new album. The re-recorded Fearless was no exception. As the album that introduced me to Swift, her sophomore record holds great significance to me. Beyond emotional attachment, it’s an impressive, magnificent thing.
The 2021 version of Fearless highlights this fantastically, reminds listeners both new and old that Swift is, and has been, talented. It’s dripping with affection, lovingly and painstakingly crafted, handled with clear care and affection, with warm sentimentality for an often dismissed time in the singer’s life.
Some tracks are made richer with time. Fifteen, for one, has an added bittersweet edge, as 31-year-old Taylor sings the lyrics written by her 18-year-old self about the naivety and emotion of youth. Change, likely written about Swift’s then-record label Big Machine, is different, in the wake of the album’s raison d’être. This little record label, about whom she wrote, “So we've been outnumbered, raided, and now cornered / It’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair / We’re getting stronger now, finding things they never found / They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared” would go on to sell her music to the “bigger,” badder enemy, forcing her to abandon her music and re-produce her first six albums. “The Best Day”, too, is changed, a love song for a mother who’s faced cancer in the time since 2008 (see, “Soon You’ll Get Better” off of Lover).
My favorite deep-cuts (“The Other Side of the Door,” “Breathe,” “Untouchable,” “Jump Then Fall,” “Hey Stephen”) are as exciting as ever, smart and emotional, and applicable to an older Swift in varying ways. It’s clear she’s still the same person in many rights, still singing about butterflies and first loves on her most recent albums (Evermore’s “Gold Rush,” Folklore’s “Cardigan,” “August,” and “Betty), albeit with more adult apprehension, and it’s nice to track this change with the singer herself, to watch her re-trace the steps of her youth.
The “vault” tracks, six previously-unreleased Fearless-era moments, are a wonderful addition, and a great way to entice listeners and sprinkle in new collaborators (Kieth Urban, Maren Morris, Aaron Dessner, Jack Antonoff). “Bye Bye Baby” is trademark Swift, near-saccharine and clever, and ready to reflect on life’s complexities. “It wasn't just like a movie / The rain didn't soak through my clothes, down to my skin,” she sings, paralleling the not-so-fairytale narratives of “White Horse” and Speak Now’s “If This Was a Movie.”
The longer narrative of 2021’s Fearless opens it up, reveals an emphasis on living in spite of fears, of finding oneself in a big, messy world. Swift is still starry-eyed, but now she’s better able to be pensive, even angry (“Mr. Perfectly Fine”). She’s put her all into the 106-minute run-time, and produced an impressive indication that she won’t be easily bested by conniving record executives.
The production, the instrumentals, the vocals, all come easier, all sound more sure. Swift’s a better vocalist, and she knows it. She’s improved upon near-perfection, if it’s possible. And still, maybe it’s just because the songs are etched into my brain, maybe it’s just because I’m the same age that Taylor was when she wrote many of these songs, but I miss the strain. I miss the dips and pushes of the original, the ebbs and flows, miss the aching emotion of a teenager on the brink of the entire world. The new album is fantastic, and I’ll listen to it over and over, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to abandon the original. I’m not sure the record is complete without a little desperation, without that unbridled youthful angst.
But I won’t fault Swift for her want for autonomy or her improvement as an artist. I will, however, fault the existence of the music industry and the need for profit that dominates contemporary art. I have no problem blaming Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun and sales charts. I’d really like to consume a Taylor Swift album created in a world separate from monetary success, but I’m not sure such a thing could ever exist. But regardless, it’s easy to see that no matter how lovely, these re-recordings should not be necessary. Artists should not be forced to shape themselves around the whims of a market, to exist as products to be packaged and sold to an audience. Taylor Swift is one of the world’s most successful individuals. She’s as self-made as a person can be, wealthy beyond wildest imagination. And she’s still a cog in the machine, still a victim of a profit-obsessed world. If it takes meticulous reproductions to make this clear, then so be it.
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