There’s a Big Disappointment on Taylor Swift’s Latest Album Rerecording

 

The fun of Speak Now is that it’s the vindictive, childish work of a lyrical savant.

Taylor Swift, blond with bangs and a striking red lip, smiles and performs in a sparkly bodysuit at a concert.

However, it’s that very paradox—mature adult/jilted teen girl—that makes Speak Now so special. Wanting to prove that her earlier successes weren’t just the product of her co-writers, Swift set out to write the whole album alone. Although she’s improved as a songwriter since (and benefited from collaborations, as any creative does), so many of the now-13-year-old lyrics really do hold up. In Track 5 (essentially the emotional centerpiece of every Taylor Swift album), she glares at a much-older ex-lover and their tumultuous romance with remarkable acuity. She’s wounded, she’s in the same shambles he’s left girls in before, but she’s sharp enough to see a way through it for herself: “I took your matches before fire could catch me/ So don’t look now/ I’m shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town.” On Speak Now, she’s a lyrical genius. But she’s also still young, with so much to learn.

Of course, there are merits to editing the immature sentiment that is the “Better Than Revenge” mattress line: Keeping it would risk newer Swifties’ cheering on lyrics that are a bit misogynistic. Maybe there would even be a cancellation campaign against Swift for preserving the biting, puritanical message. Her fans are known for having a lot to say about the particulars of her work.

But I do think there’s merit in letting the ugly, ungenerous thoughts of a teenager live on, preserved like a disgusting little prehistoric bug in amber. There’s delicious resentment built into that original lyric and its triumphant delivery. You can feel her youthful satisfaction at saying something that she knows is uncouth. And for what it’s worth, I’d say it’s a pretty mild statement, considering the way most middle schoolers would verbally crucify boyfriend stealers at the slumber parties I attended back in 2010Swift has made it a bit of a habit to follow public opinion, even when it directly opposes her creative vision: She dropped a homophobic lyric from the 2006 track “Picture to Burn” (though a portion of that stupid line lives on in a hilarious 17-second audio supercut beloved by queer Swifties, including me, on TikTok). She also removed a jubilant lyric—“spelling is fun!” from the 2019 single “ME!” because her fans found it so cringey. (“ME!” is a horrendously cringey song even in this edited version.) Just last year, she cut an image of a scale reading “FAT” from a music video she directed after she received backlash online.

In this latest case with the infamous mattress lyric, it feels like she was simply trying to get out ahead of that vitriol. But the process of bringing her much more grown and measured writing skills to this track also undermines her greater endeavor of reclamation, as Rolling Stone’s Larisha Paul pointed out in the run-up to Speak Now’s release and the predicted lyric change. Why would you incentivize your fans to listen to a version of the song that doesn’t belong to you?

I certainly wouldn’t love if Taylor Swift wrote a new song shaming a woman for her sexual habits (or the perception thereof). Obviously she’s grown up, she’s evolved, and she’s even embraced some pseudo-liberal politics. But “Better Than Revenge (Taylor’s Version)” isn’t a new song, and the rerecordings aren’t about creating new, less-problematic music.

Sure, it’s also a little immature of me to be upset about one line in a song. And in spite of it all, when I heard the opening guitars blaze on “Better Than Revenge (Taylor’s Version)” this morning on my bike commute into my grown-up job, I could still delight in the childish villainy the same way I did when I first heard the track at 13. Even without the invocation of a bed, there are quite a few vindictive lines in this song, all delivered with the same mean-spirited fun of the original version. So why don’t you scooch a little closer and share a headphone with me? If we’re just screechy enough in our singalong of the chorus, we might be able to sneak that original lyric back in.

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