The vocals remain distinctive but the songs could do with more vividly told stories.
You may change or cancel your subscription or trial at any time online. For a full comparison of Standard and Premium Digital, click here. You'll enjoy access to several newsletters including FirstFT, a daily newsletter with the global stories you need to know as well as Editor's Choice, a weekly newsletter featuring the editor's favourite stories.
The singer-songwriter's 10th studio album is a return to the pop pipeline, with production from her longtime collaborator Jack Antonoff.
Target, which has had a long relationship with Swift, has its own exclusive LP version (on “lavender” vinyl) as well as a CD with three exclusive tracks. The most ingenious or shameless part — take your pick — of Swift’s vinyl strategy is what she has done with the back covers. In a sense, “Midnights” is Swift’s return to the pop pipeline after her digressions of the past couple of years. Swift is releasing four standard versions of “Midnights” on vinyl, each with its own disc color and cover art; they also correspond to four variant CD versions. Swift’s friendship with Kravitz, as fans know, is close enough that she once acted as an [uncredited assistant](https://wwd.com/business-news/media/nyt-great-performers-2020-list-tv-tiktok-michaela-coel-sarah-cooper-1234672957/) on a pandemic-era remote photo shoot of Kravitz for The New York Times Magazine. [kitschy videos](https://www.tiktok.com/@taylorswift/video/7147533441326648618?is_copy_url=1&is_from_webapp=v1) on TikTok that revealed song titles, one at time, taken from Ping-Pong balls in a basket, as if on a decades-old local TV spot. [making an album with Antonoff](https://www.elle.com/culture/celebrities/a39035654/zoe-kravitz-interview-march-2022/), is listed as one of the six songwriters of the first track, “Lavender Haze,” alongside Swift, Antonoff, Mark Anthony Spears (a.k.a. But an important factor in the sales and chart prospects for “Midnights” may be Swift’s embrace of physical music formats like CDs and vinyl LPs, which, because of the way Billboard crunches data about how music is consumed, can have a major impact on chart positions. Swift’s marketing this time has involved a series of “I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.” “Folklore” won The marbled vinyl has been pressed and sorted into collectible variants.
On Swift's 10th and most challenging album, she and producer Jack Antonoff push her voice in new directions, rethinking the sonic rhetoric of first-person ...
She's still working to slacken the hold of the Old Taylor — of the many Old Taylors she's constructed through her music and celebrity. This is the kind of truth-telling that's earned Swift the devotion of her fans. For all of her kindness in the world and empathy and dedication to openness as a songwriter, Taylor Swift is, in her essence, sharp. "Labyrinth" — as good as any song inspired by one of her favorite subjects, the experience of still hanging on when you have to let go — melts her voice into myriad light streams, some as twisted as in a On "Midnight Rain" it's auto-tuned to vacillate between birdlike high notes and an almost masculine lower register, punctuating the story the verses tell of a young woman outgrowing a relationship with a sound that evokes that process of unfolding into a new self. is the kind of story song only Swift can write, dipping into gel-pen poetry to cultivate a swoony mood, then focusing on a scene of romantic persuasion and betrayal drawn so acutely that it stings. Usually she's explaining every move she makes, but here the music pulls her into the eternal now of her emotions, working against her persistent impulse to make sense of them. Sharpness is also key to Swift's perspective, surfacing in her love of the telling detail, of the rejoinder that cuts through whatever bulls*** the object of her love/hate has burdened her with. In the evening, with her lover nearby, does she vape a little Lavender Haze CBD Rosin and focus on the quietude creeping into her body beneath the relentless chatter of her thoughts? On Midnights she worked exclusively with her soulmate producer Jack Antonoff, bringing in only a handful of collaborators (the most notable is [Lana Del Rey](https://www.npr.org/artists/145913023/lana-del-rey), who gives great femme energy on "Snow On The Beach"), burrowing into a sound that might be called ahistorical chillout music. And then, in the studio, can she bring a lyric built on questions, turn to her trusted collaborator and say, "I don't care if this song is a hit, I want it to be weird"?
With its confident songwriting and understated synth-pop, Swift's sophisticated 10th album indicates that she no longer feels she has to compete with her ...
Last time she broke cover with new material, she released [Folklore](https://www.theguardian.com/music/2020/jul/24/taylor-swift-folklore-review-bombastic-pop-makes-way-for-emotional-acuity) and [Evermore](https://www.theguardian.com/music/2020/dec/11/taylor-swift-evermore-rich-alt-rock-and-richer-character-studies), two pandemic-fuelled albums of tasteful folk-rock produced by the National’s Aaron Dessner. There’s an appealing confidence about this approach, a sense that Swift no longer feels she has to compete on the same terms as her peers. Everything has been [pored over for potential information](https://www.theguardian.com/music/2022/oct/14/taylor-swift-celebrate-album-release-midnights-pop-acclaim) about its contents, up to and including the kind of eye shadow she wears on the album cover. Meanwhile, Anti-Hero offers a litany of small-hours self-loathing set to music that feels not unlike the glossy 80s rock found on Swift’s Elsewhere, if the Swift you love is Swift in vengeful mode, settling scores with a side-order of You’re So Vain-esque who’s-this-about? [more of the same](https://www.theguardian.com/music/2021/dec/16/go-easy-on-me-why-pop-has-got-so-predictable): building an immediately recognisable brand in a world where tens of thousands of new tracks are added to streaming services every day. It’s an album that steadfastly declines to deal in the kind of neon-hued bangers that pop stars usually return with, music brash enough to cut through the hubbub. In fact, Midnights delivers her firmly from what she called the “folklorian woods” of her last two albums back to electronic pop. There are filtered synth tones, swoops of dubstep-influenced bass, trap and house-inspired beats and effects that warp her voice to a point of androgyny on Midnight Rain and Labyrinth, the latter a leading choice given the preponderance of lyrics that protest gender stereotyping, or “that 1950s shit they want from me”, as Lavender Haze puts it. [Taylor Swift](https://www.theguardian.com/music/taylor-swift)’s 10th studio album, Midnights. It’s an approach that Midnights’ one marquee-name guest, [Lana Del Rey](https://www.theguardian.com/music/lana-del-rey), knows a lot about, but not one to which Swift has adhered. Instead, breadcrumbs of mysterious hints and visual clues are very gradually dropped via the artist’s social media channels.
(AP) -- Taylor Swift “Midnights,” (Republic Records). “All of me changed like midnight,” Taylor Swift confesses halfway through her latest album, ...
The album treads aggressively familiar territory—but with new wisdom and confidence. By Spencer Kornhaber. A portrait of Taylor Swift. Beth Garrabrant.
On the delightfully trollish “Anti-Hero”—“Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby, and I’m a monster on the hill”—she makes the highly specific insecurities of a celebrity land as a (The lovely “Snow on the Beach,” for example, is almost ruined by a pointless Janet Jackson reference.) But the concision of Swift’s songcraft and the nuances of her phrasing should keep the listener tuned in. (Please diagram this double negative: “Karma’s a relaxing thought / aren’t you envious that for you it’s not?”) For the opener, “Lavender Haze,” the cartoon-villain smolder of her voice has human creaks and squeaks. “Maroon” and “Question…?,” two songs about hot memories, churn with a near-tragic blend of energy and frustration. That knack for relatability is her superpower—one so potent that it almost makes Midnights’ insularity seem noble. [Reputation](https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2017/11/reputation-taylor-swift-first-review/545561/) in 2017 and [Lover](https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2019/08/taylor-swift-lover-review-faith-religion/596725/) in 2019—tinged with extremity and experimentation, brilliance and [cringe](https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2019/04/taylor-swift-me-song-review/588118/). The concept behind the album title—Swift documenting “13 sleepless nights” over her lifetime—is an excuse to tour through old obsessions: exes, haters, feuds, her beau’s talent for distracting her from all of the above. Yet compositionally, Midnights is sleek and sturdy in a way that no previous album of hers is. Last year, she expanded an old ballad, “All Too Well,” [into a 10-minute saga](https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2021/11/snl-taylor-swift-all-too-well-red/620706/) that flickered with controlled fury. What’s distinct about her return to synth pop is just the flavors she stirs in: oozing bass, surmountable melancholia, and the same type of confession and awkwardness that appears 45 minutes into an office happy hour. The choice of moodily distorted vocals feels especially dated; putting humanoid whale moans in an album’s first moments, as Swift and Antonoff have done, is like opening an IPAs-and-bacon bar in 2022. Transcending expectations is its own expectation, and Midnights makes clear, with modest poignance, that Swift has burned out on her own hype.
Taylor Swift's 'Midnights' album: read every song ranked, from 'Anti-Hero' to 'Snow on the Beach'!
“Anti-Hero” is ripe for stadium shout-alongs and TikTok lip syncs; it was designed for the moment, and built to last. Ornately constructed and brilliantly self-effacing, “Mastermind” demonstrates Swift’s songwriting wit at the end of the album, the words “I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian ‘cause I care!” echoing in the mind as Midnights comes to an end. Get ready for “Vigilante Shit” to become one of Swift’s all-time fan favorite tracks, and for good reason: the vengeance declaration, during which the superstar takes aim at an enemy and helps other women do the same, is stripped-down in its cutthroat approach, with deep-bubbling beats and synths that swirl around Swift’s proudly deployed venom. That pitched-down voice that opens “Midnight Rain,” then acts as a call-and-response partner to Swift throughout the song? From the whirring modular synth to the sumptuous backing vocals (courtesy of Zoë Kravitz, in part), “Lavender Haze” sizzles as a piece of expertly arranged rhythmic pop, with Swift knowing exactly how to slide above the beats. The prettiest song on Midnights also happens to be Swift’s most intimate moment on the album: “Labyrinth” is stately and ethereal, with electronic lines skittering around Swift’s voice as she fears that she’s falling in love again. Detailed memories steeped in vulnerability, missed-chance romance, feelings evolving along with the words of the refrain — so many of Swift’s songwriting hallmarks show up on “Maroon,” and their impact hasn’t dulled one bit. The hushed beauty that marked parts of Swift’s Folklore/Evermore era can be heard on “Sweet Nothing,” an understated ode to the calming presence of a relationship as the world seemingly spins out of control. A story of refusing to settle into early-thirties ennui, “Bejeweled” zips along with purpose, the plinking synths serving as connective tissue before bursting into sparklers above Swift’s hooks. Don’t let the muted beginning and subtle instrumentation fool you: “You’re On Your Own, Kid” snowballs as Swift’s frustrations compound, and eventually reaches one of the album’s most effective crescendos. Even if “Question…?” doesn’t fully congeal, the song boasts some fascinating tidbits to pore over. [wrote](https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch1Ed_Su6Qw/?hl=en) in August while announcing the project, “a journey through terrors and sweet dreams.