[Note: It’s taken me two months to write this! I’ve filled many pages of my notebook with little scribblings about the intersections of Tori and Taylor’s work. And at some point, I realized I probably can’t do it all in one go. So, since I have so much to say on this topic, consider the following essay to be an introduction with more to come.]
It’s me. Hi. I’m the new fan, it’s me.
I didn’t expect to be nearly 50 and falling in love with Taylor Swift’s music.
I didn’t pay much attention to Taylor until 1989. I liked that record a lot, but I wouldn’t say it turned me into a Swiftie, even though it did change my perception of her altogether for the better. I noted it, put it in my rotation for a while, and that was that. Then several years later, the pandemic hit and the world went into lockdown. Folklore came out and, on a whim, I gave it a listen. I was blown away by the songwriting and emotional depth of the songs on that record. I immediately sought out her back catalog, quickly immersing myself in Reputation and Lover, then Evermore and Midnights. And now I’m hooked on her storytelling and the easter eggs and the fan community I’ve found on TikTok in particular.
So many things seemed to fall apart in my life between 2020 and 2023. (Although if I’m honest, dear reader, it’s been a ten-year cycle that seems to be finally drawing to a close.) Over the last few years, I’ve become numb and dissociated as bad thing after bad thing has happened on a personal and global scale. When I was younger, I considered myself a hopeless (new)romantic. I was a Very Sensitive Kid. So you can imagine that for me, hell has been trying to navigate the mundane sameness of this particular decade-long depressive episode. You know it’s bad when you can’t even cry, when you can’t even start to untangle the web of worries and trauma in which you’re struggling, so you resign yourself to a life in shades of greige. You go to work, you maybe manage to cook a meal on a good day, but mostly you’re sitting in some metaphorical colorless waiting room. Nothing holds interest. Cynicism has wrapped its claws around your heart and you’ve stopped struggling against it and given in.
I’m working hard every day to feel, to honor my feelings, and to stay present. Some days are better than others, but I’m starting to have a few more neutral-to-good days than stressful-to-soul crushing days. One of the things I’ve leaned into over the past few years is music. Taylor’s music has helped me feel my feelingsagain, in a way that I’ve needed so desperately. And all the while, Tori was there with me, too, hanging out like the wise older sister she is.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how Taylor and Tori’s work exists on a very similar emotional frequency for me.
The frequency is:
I’m okay when everything is not okay.
I’m a real tough kid, I can handle my shit… I can do it with a broken heart.
Sometimes in life a girl must tango alone.
You’re on your own kid, you always have been.
The frequency is:
Sit with the grief.
Let it wash over me as if a torrential midnight rain. I won’t drown; I will be like water, too.
Now, let the warmth of the daylight heal the places that hurt.
Both Taylor and Tori have much to say to those of us with a broken heart. And let’s face it – that’s most of us these days, in one way or another.
Leaving a high control religious group as a teenager was probably my first real heartbreak. Growing up evangelical meant deferring dreams and keeping secrets, and so I learned to lock away my desires and give in to my fears. The only ecstasy allowed was that found in penance and worship. What really helped me start to make my way out of the church in my teen years was finding Tori’s music and starting to ask questions about what I wanted for myself. I started to feel a deep sense of rage and of longing… and Little Earthquakes was there, guiding me out of the shadows and off on my way towards truth.
Tori didn’t give me the answers, but rather, she encouraged me to ask the important questions and figure it out for myself. That has long been a message in her work: learn to love yourself by getting curious about everything, including your inner anti-hero, and always challenge those who would deny your humanity and your access to pleasure and wholeness.
In a similar way, Taylor’s recent work has inspired me to reconnect with that righteous anger, to feel things that I’ve suppressed in order to survive. Taylor’s writing is simultaneously relatable and romantic, the meaning of songs shapeshifting and deepening with every listen. Like Tori, Taylor’s wordplay is intricate and open to interpretation. The internal logic and language of the Swiftie world makes total sense to me after years of interpretation threads on rec.music.tori-amos and the dissection of Tori’s album concepts, artwork, fashion, and live performances. Ears with Feet (EWF) have spent the last 30+ years weaving together Tori’s compositions, our own personal experiences, and our collective knowledge of music, visual art, critical theory, feminism, and spirituality (among many other topics); it is truly the magic fabric of our dreaming together.
Taylor’s latest release, The Tortured Poets Department is, in my estimation, a good entry point if you’re a Tori fan looking to explore Taylor’s music. (Although come back to me tomorrow and I might steer you elsewhere in her catalogue to start… who knows? Things are always changing around here.) Sure, there’s plenty of romantic heartbreak on this record, but there are also themes of unlocking grief and building resilience, coming back from religious trauma and defying the patriarchy, the pressure of growing up in the music industry, and the expectations of fans. Just as Tori does, Taylor explores mythology, art, world history, and popular culture to explore her own shadow side and to hold a mirror up to both her devoted audience and her detractors.
Taylor also deeply understands the difficulties and joys of being a child prodigy, which is something Tori explores throughout her discography as well.
Just for perspective: Taylor is now the same age Tori was when Choirgirl came out. Some would say Tori was also in her glittering prime then. While some folks believe that Taylor is simply a pop star and they use misogyny to discredit her work, I believe she’s an artist’s artist, much like Tori, and I am grateful that I’m living in the same time as both of them. Together they are teaching me to feel again, to want to create again.
In fact, I believe that’s the appeal that both artists hold for their millions of fans. Out here in this angry brutal world, we need artists willing to remind us of our humanity and dignity. The artist’s vulnerability gives way to *our* vulnerability and empathy. Music breaks down walls faster than almost anything, even the ones we erect around our own hearts to keep out or to contain the pain. It is a universal healing force that humbles me every day.
Friends, this is a time to lean into the art that makes you FEEL and that stirs your compassion and creativity. I am grateful to live in a world with Tori and Taylor and their art. I am grateful for the supportive and creative communities I’ve found through their art.
It is so good to feel something again.
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More Tori and Taylor content to come because this shit lights up my entire brain and I’m not going to shut up. Sorrynotsorry. As ever, I welcome your (kind and constructive) feedback – drop me a note or check me out on Instagram – @redheadingblog.
I’ve made a Spotify playlist to accompany this essay. I’ve grouped together songs that have something in common thematically or musically. Enjoy!