Spencer TuckermanBy 2007, Jay-Z had done it all. He’d reeled off seven-straight #1 albums, won five Grammys, earned another 16 nominations, and even walked away in a blaze of glory. 2003’s critical success, The Black Album, was intended to be his departure from music, but he came back three years later with Kingdom Come, his most critically reviled work. It was starting to feel like Jay, nearly 38 years old by that point, was losing his fastball. Where does an underdog autobiographer go when he’s beaten life? Ridley Scott’s 2007 crime epic American Gangster was the salve. Jay-Z reportedly caught an advanced screening and rattled off a full album inspired by the film in less than two months.
Something about Denzel Washington’s portrayal of a ‘60s and ‘70s drug trafficker connected with the rapper. “Please don't compare me to other rappers, compare me to trappers,” he proclaimed on the album. “I'm more Frank Lucas than Ludacris.” For an artist who’d told his story forward and backward, he’d found a way out by telling someone else’s.
It remains one of my favorite Jay-Z albums for the way in which it breathed new life into the artist, and for whatever Metacritic is worth, American Gangster sports a score of 83—just a hair below The Black Album and better than anything he’s released in the 13 years since.
Taylor Swift needs no similar comeback magic. Starting with 2008’s Fearless, each of her albums have peaked at #1, including last August’s Lover, which—again, for what Metacritic is worth—is her most well-regarded project. She is one of the biggest artists in the world, and maybe the most self-aware musician in history. In a calculated move, she turned her eighth studio album into a surprise release, and used the auspice of the worst year of our lives to make a pivot away from pop music and into her own imagination. She even tabbed Bon Iver for a duet and The National’s Aaron Dessner for production on 11 songs. We’ve all seen this coming. The “Taylor Swift goes indie” storyline was visible on the horizon for miles, like that giant wave in Interstellar.
Folklore was total Spencer-bait and I regret to inform you, dear readers, that it worked. I’ve taken a direct hit.
Any of my friends know I haven’t been a Taylor Swift fan since her 2006 self-titled debut. I sometimes joke that I liked her very first single, “Tim McGraw,” but that she’s been going downhill ever since. This isn’t entirely true. I’ve been recapping the year in music annually since 2012, and 2014’s “Blank Space” did manage to crack my top 25 favorite tracks of that year… at number 25.
The truth is, I’ve been looking for an excuse to let Taylor back into my heart for a bit now. Hating pop stars is just not in my character. I stopped being a music snob a decade ago, but something about Taylor’s essence has continued to get under my skin. Now she’s extended a musical olive branch in my direction. We’re going to run with it and iron out the finer details later.
Does Folklore work flawlessly? Not really. Part of the project comes off as a Lana Del Rey imitation, and other parts continue to cling to her past. There’s something inherently untenable about singing, “I knew I'd curse you for the longest time, chasin' shadows in the grocery line” on the lead single for your seventh-straight #1 album. When is the last time Taylor stood in line at Kroger?
But a lot of it really does work. “Exile,” the Bon Iver duet, is effective, albeit a tad saccharine. “Invisible String” uses negative space brilliantly, proving—window dressings be damned—she hasn’t forgotten how to write a pop song. She even winks at that debut album on “Betty,” churning out what presents itself as a spiritual successor to “Tim McGraw” if you allow it.
And then there’s “The Last Great American Dynasty.”
The biggest stumbling block for me when it came to Taylor Swift, the musician, has been the corner she painted herself into. When unprecedented career success drives you to the antithesis of your worldview as an artist, what comes next? Jay-Z could no longer convincingly sell the struggling drug dealer act while swimming backstroke through deposits from Budweiser brand deals. Taylor could no longer sell the “aw shucks, I’m the broken-hearted girl next door” character after she propelled herself past the point where she was anything but.
Like Jay-Z 13 years before her, the unrelatably successful Swift found a fresh pocket to play in by exploring kinship with a bygone predecessor. Jay’s was drug kingpin Frank Lucas. Swift’s was Rebekah Harkness—wife of Cleveland Standard Oil heir William Hale Harkness. Rebekah’s marriage in 1947 made her one of the wealthiest women in America. William died of a heart attack seven years later at 54 years old, leaving Rebekah in charge of the 11,000-square-foot Holiday House in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, which brings us to the Swift connection. The pop star bought the house for a reported $17 million in 2013.
Harkness was infamous for using her beachside mansion as the backdrop for rowdy parties—much to the dismay of those around her. “There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen,” Swift sings from the perspective of Harkness critics. “She had a marvelous time ruining everything.” There’s always been a specific type of target on the back of wealthy women who like to color outside the lines, something Swift is certainly familiar with.
Harkness died in 1982, leaving behind her Rhode Island estate.
“Fifty years is a long time. Holiday House sat quietly on that beach.” Swift sings on the song’s punchline. ”Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me.” It’s a hilarious, you’ve-gotta-hand-it-to-her flex to sell the story of one of your multimillion-dollar homes with a straight face, but I’m taking the bait.
On the album’s release day, I boldly declared “The Last Great American Dynasty” is the best song of Swift’s career. It’s a claim I’ll stand by while issuing the reminder that it’s coming from someone who doesn’t like 95% of her music.
I’m a sucker for a storyline, and Taylor Swift is selling a good one in 2020. It’s fascinating that the best chapter she has to offer is someone else’s.