With the social media frenzy of the most recent album I'm left thinking once again:
"It’s not a cultural sin to write the same song over and over again, to lack self-awareness, or to simply be annoying. But the extent to which we are collectively expected to acknowledge her charm and genius at the point of a cultural bayonet is absurd and long overdue for a reckoning.
If her poptimist boosters choose to ignore this, or to read Byronic Romanticism into Swift’s moon-June-spoon world of knifelike cuts and “tight little skirts,” that’s their prerogative. But the rest of us don’t have to go along with it. To ask us as a culture to place her on the same plane as artists such as Prince, Joni Mitchell, or David Bowie, however — the plane of art, sex, death, humor, culture, and adulthood — is really just a bridge too far, at least for now."
