I'm a middle-aged Swiftie — here's why I'm proud to be a Taylor Swift fan
Marjorie Brennan on Taylor Swift
It is a long time since Taylor Swift was just a musician. The discourse around her has reached epic proportions, and people who have little knowledge of, or interest in, her music feel qualified to pronounce on all aspects of her life. Being a fan of Swift increasingly means having to defend her, and thus yourself, against all her perceived transgressions, from her private jet trips to her taste in men.
I’m not exactly what people imagine when they think of a Swiftie. For one thing, I’m a middle-aged mum. Unlike men of a similar age, who very much still inhabit the chin-stroking muso space, middle-aged mums are not highly visible when it comes to performing music, or having an opinion on it. But becoming a parent or getting older doesn’t mean you stop being interested in music. I love it and rely on it as much as I did as a teenager — performing it, listening to it, dancing to it.
But more than anything, I love what music does, its power to transport and transform, to bond and connect, how it serves as a companion through the highs and lows of life. And all the things I love about music are the things I love about Taylor Swift. Following her career and music with my two daughters has given us an additional and life-enhancing connection, something to be cherished as they grow older and more independent.
Watching the Eras Tour unfold has been pure joy — the sense of community among her fans, young and old, male and female, the frenzied expectation that Swift cultivates with her surprise songs and curated routines and outfits, the sense of spectacle that makes her concerts such a joyous experience.
My appreciation for Swift ascended to a new level with the release of her acoustically-driven albums and during the pandemic. Written and produced with her long-time collaborator Jack Antonoff, and Aaron Dessner of The National, Swift returned to the stripped-back nature of her country music roots, with a folk twist, and the results were sublime. Those albums were a balm to our fearful and weary souls, while the fascination with the associated ‘lore’ shared by the online community of Swifties provided a much-needed distraction to our household during a challenging time. The universal critical acclaim also made it harder for those who argued against her superlative talents as a songwriter and lyricist.
But despite her countless achievements, Swift is still expected to prove herself and no amount of Grammys or industry awards will ever be enough. It has been ever thus for female artists who must always meet some unachievable creative and moral standard. Another bugbear is the reductive and lazy assessment of her work as a roll call of songs dissing ex-boyfriends. It’s a short-sighted, self-serving dismissal of an extensive back catalogue featuring a slew of narratively inventive songs dealing with everything from the life of an American heiress to the impact of war.
Then there’s the obvious sexist double standard in such appraisals. Men have sung about love and heartbreak without judgment for what seems like forever but Swift does it and is condemned. Indeed, she has described herself as a “national lightning rod for slut-shaming” while reflecting on media coverage of her past relationships.
There is also something off-putting about the negative and mean-spirited takes on Swift from male musicians such as Damon Albarn and Neil Tennant (he somewhat mystifyingly said she didn’t have any famous songs and asked what her ‘Billie Jean’ was). Only last weekend, Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters was cheered by gig-goers when he suggested that Swift and her musicians didn’t perform live on the Eras Tour, a patent untruth.
Swift also comes under fire for being a billion-dollar corporation, even though she has earned every penny with her talent. The power of such self-motivated creative energy is not to be underestimated when the very essence of human creativity is endangered by the inexorable march towards AI-imposed mediocrity. She’s a sharp and shrewd businessperson — something that Mick Jagger or Paul McCartney (a big fan) never had to apologise for.
Re-recording her back catalogue when her master tapes were sold by label boss Scooter Braun was a genius move that would be celebrated if she wasn’t a woman, something which of course she dealt with brilliantly in her song The Man: “They'd say I hustled/Put in the work/They wouldn't shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve/What I was wearing/If I was rude/Could all be separated from my good ideas and power moves?”
Ultimately, Swift has learned to rise above it all. It is one of the many lessons that I have taken from her. Another one is to embrace the joy. Which I will be doing as I listen to 'Anti-Hero' for the gazillionth time, making friendship bracelets, and magical memories, with my daughters in anticipation of the gig of a lifetime.
