Taylor Swift's marriage-minded 'Poets' hints at deeper longings

Working in (conservative) political media, I’ve been surprised by the intensity of the emotional response around – of all topics – Taylor Swift. On one side of the spectrum, of course, is the “Swiftie.” She stays up until midnight for Swift’s latest album release, and attending the Eras Tour may have been the best night of her life. In the middle you have those who can take Taylor Swift or leave her – they might like some of her songs, but she’s just another musician to them.

The other side of the spectrum, however – we might call them the anti-Swifties – seem to be just as emotional and passionate as the Swifties. However, what binds them together is their shared conviction that Taylor Swift is a terrible role model, inspired by radical feminism, and with her new album, “The Tortured Poets Department” – downright blasphemous.

When Taylor Swift dropped her 11th studio album on April 19, critics were quick to pounce, calling her uninspired, pretentious, and sacrilegious. The album boasts 31 tracks (yes, you read that number correctly) and is impossible for the casual listener to digest in one sitting (and can easily become sonically monotonous if attempted). But the most hot-button criticism of this album that’s been making the rounds on X is Swift’s use of religious imagery and metaphors throughout. The most rebuked song, “Guilty as Sin,” features Swift connecting a series of metaphors for Christianity into her confession of lust for a romantic partner, at one point singing, “What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway.” In “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,” Swift again calls upon gospel references, singing, “I would've died for your sins, instead, I just died inside.”

This isn’t the first time Swift has used these references. 2019’s “False God” features Swift using similar Christian language to describe the idolization of a relationship: “We might just get away with it, the altar is my hips. Even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love.” During this same time Swift also released her undeniably catchy single, “You Need to Calm Down,” meant to condemn those who don’t support the LGBTQ lifestyle. While the lyrics don’t directly reference Christians, Swift set the scene of the music video in a trailer park clearly meant to evoke white “trailer trash” and the religious right. It’s not only incredibly elitist, it’s also not even subtle enough to get away with.

Swift didn’t draw quite as much backlash back then, despite this also coinciding with the embarrassing period of time she decided to start speaking out (sometimes literally crying) about politics in congruence with her documentary “Miss Americana.” Now, however, the discourse has intensified due to her new lyrics on “The Tortured Poets Department.”

I agree with my fellow Christians that parts of this album are indeed blasphemous, and I’m disappointed by this. I understand why and how people are offended by these lyrics. At the same time, there are aspects of the album that are worth discussion and some degree of appreciation, which seems entirely missing in much of the commentary.

What I find most profound about “The Tortured Poets Department” is the honesty with which Swift, 34, reveals what she now desires in life: marriage, babies, and meaning. Taylor Swift has always sung about love, but on the album’s track, “loml” (an acronym of “love of my life”), she takes it a step further, lamenting last year’s end of her six-year relationship with actor Joe Alwyn, who appears to have not wanted to marry her after all that time as evidenced by lines such as, “You talked me under the table [clean version], talking rings and talking cradles.” In the title track, “The Tortured Poets Department,” she sings, “At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding.”

One of the most poignant references to this theme is heard in “So Long, London,” a ballad that starts with haunting a cappella vocals that evoke wedding church bells. In this song Swift regrets wasting her youth on a man who wouldn’t marry her (“I stopped CPR, after all it's no use. The spirit was gone, we would never come to, and I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free”). Later in the song, she claims she “died on the [wedding] altar waiting for the proof” of his love. The proof? You guessed it: marriage. Later in the album, “The Prophecy” is the desperate cry of a woman who has wasted too much time, pleading for someone who will finally choose her forever (“I'm so afraid I sealed my fate, no sign of soulmates”).

Throughout the album she continues to reference men who just can’t seem to grow up and commit. On “Peter,” for example, Swift alludes to Peter Pan while telling the story of a 25-year-old man who claims he’ll grow up and come back to (i.e., decide to commit to and marry) our protagonist, but when he never does, she decides she can’t wait for him any longer. (Hear that, ladies? Move on from the man who won’t commit!)

Swift even appears to call herself out for her lack of good judgment. “I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can),” for example, is two and a half minutes of Swift arguing that she definitely can fix this man – until the last line when she relents, “Whoa, maybe I can’t” (See, ladies? Even Taylor Swift agrees that the “project boyfriend” isn’t worth your time!). On “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart,” the album’s only pure upbeat dance anthem, Swift sarcastically brags about her ability to fool everyone into thinking she’s having a blast on tour while actually being heartbroken and miserable (“I’m miserable… and no one even knows!!!”).

Of course, not all 31 songs are laments over love lost. “Clara Bow” details how girls entering the entertainment industry are compared to older, successful artists and later dismissed when the next hot young artist comes along, and is a touching and personal rebuke of the fleeting beauty upon which Swift’s industry relies heavily. “Robin,” a sweet ode to producer Aaron Dessner’s son that will surely have any mom of boys shedding a tear or two, shows Swift doing something she’s proven she’s good at: writing what she doesn’t know. She’s not yet a mother, but the song is written from the perspective of a parent cherishing the whimsy of a little boy’s imagination (“Long may you roar at your dinosaurs, you’re a just ruler”) and protecting his innocence from the harsh world.

“How Did it End?” and “But Daddy I Love Him” are Swift’s seemingly cathartic moments to point a finger at her own audience, with the former a haunting ballad calling fans out for the “empathetic hunger” with which they consume and gossip about Swift’s breakups, and the latter a scathing allegory that punches at Swift’s “fans” for their calls to cancel her over a controversial love interest from last year. At the time, Swift was dating musician Matty Healy, who has a history of controversy, most notably making jokes on a podcast that were considered racist by many of Swift’s fans. Fans even went so far as to start the “#SpeakUpNow campaign,” requesting that the singer give “more than a simple apology” for the ‘bigoted’ remarks that Matty Healy has made. Swift has built a reputation around kindness and generosity to her fans, but these songs are rare glimpses that she may well be exhausted by them as well.

On a purely sonic note, it’s more evident than ever that Swift could use a break from long-time collaborator and producer Jack Antonoff, whose production capacity is so stilted that many of the songs he produces for Swift sound awkwardly similar. Swift’s other collaborator/producer on the album, Aaron Dessner, has the opposite effect, creating beautiful, raw, stripped down production on almost every song he produces for her (most evidenced on their first collaboration project, “folklore”). It’s easy to tell who produced which song on this album, and that’s not really a good thing.

Swift undeniably is gifted with the ability to weave powerful and intimate stories and feelings into her songwriting - but then in the next line can deliver something as dull and awkward as, “You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate. We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist” (“The Tortured Poets Department”). Unlike some diehard fans of Swift, I don’t believe these lyrical moments of juxtaposition are intentional nor inspired. Maybe she just doesn’t always nail it and sometimes lets a goofy line or two slip in. But Swift has a reputation for being a lyricist for a reason, and the songs that truly shine in this regard are, “How Did It End?” “The Bolter,” and “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived.”

Most forgettable are the two songs very clearly written about Swift’s current boyfriend, NFL tight end Travis Kelce (“The Alchemy” and “So High School”). While these songs are innocent, here Swift mixes silly football references (“So when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team”) with the idea of finding a love that only happens “once every few lifetimes,” and the resulting songs are admittedly tired and repetitive.

I believe Christians should use discernment when listening to any popular music. And the blasphemous lyrics on “The Tortured Poets Department” are worthy of the glaring criticism they’ve received. But I don’t believe this discounts the entire album. I may even go so far as to argue that Swift’s references to religion, as misguided as they are, are that of a woman who seems to be taking an interest in the theme of salvation and religion in a way she hasn’t yet explored. It is no excuse for disrespecting Christianity. At the same time, it is also possible that the fact Swift understands these references to the degree she does, and the gravity of their meaning within a narrative, indicates that she may in fact be searching for something to fill the void that unhealthy levels of fame and uncommitted relationships have left within her. It also testifies to the fact that Swift’s clear desire for marriage and family (shared with most other single 30-something-year-old women) is a sign that even someone who “has everything” ends up wanting what we were created to want: meaning, commitment, children.

So should you listen to “The Tortured Poets Department” despite its hugely problematic moments? I think there’s something of value here, but each of us needs to form our own convictions. This album, more than any other Taylor Swift album, indicates she’s not only searching for meaning, but is openly grieving a mistake that fans her age, many of whom grew up with her, have also made: wasting their youth on men who won’t marry them. And for those who have not yet made that mistake - younger listeners - that’s one worthy lesson.

Swift’s relatability and appeal to millennial women has always been rooted in the fact that she reflects them and their desires. Now those desires appear to be much more traditional. If you think she’s merely a soulless performer trying to lead young women down the wrong path, you might consider taking a step back and listening one more time to some of the tracks mentioned above. And maybe say a prayer for Taylor Swift while you do so. The relationship she most needs, of course, is not someone who will marry her, but Someone who will save her.