Welcome back, class! After a lengthy break from Taylor Swift, punctuated by Pop Girl summer and a gruesome election season, we return for episode 6 of the Taylor Swift Archives, in which we will cover the most important pop culture fixture of the past two years: the Eras Tour. And, lucky duckling you, this lecture will be given by someone who was fortunate enough to see Taylor live in Toronto in November, a mere three shows before the tour ended for good. (In case it's not immediately obvious, that's me.)
Now, if you haven't already noticed, I leave each episode with a little teaser about what I'm thinking the next episode would be. From Episode 5, I wrote: "as the chapters progress, the [romantic] tropes [in Taylor's songwriting] become less about the men and more about Taylor. This is a key feature of her personal narrative -- that as she has aged, her growth can be measured by how she conducts herself in and after relationships." This was the seed I thought I would lead Episode 6 with -- the idea that, through the Eras Tour, as she revisits each of her albums, she makes peace with everything that happened to her. She no longer wants people to attack John Mayer and Joe Jonas, sending their babies presents instead. And moreover, her music matures from "you"-centered pieces about the actions of the other party to "me"-centered poems, about herself, her emotional state, and her intellectualization of it.
But as I outlined this thesis more, I realized it's not necessarily true. The Tortured Poets Department is a scathing rebuke of both Matty Healy and Joe Alwyn, and given that she's written about John Mayer's lasting impact on her personhood as recently as Midnights, I'm no longer convinced that she wants her fans to stop hating him, either. Moreover, while it's true that her music has become more introspective throughout the course of her career, I'm hesitant to paint her detailed, dynamic discography in such broad strokes. Who am I to say that Sad Beautiful Tragic is less inward-looking than Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus? For that matter, who am I to judge whether thanK you, aIMee is less petulant than Better Than Revenge?
And, the raging feminist that so frequently comes out during these writing sessions is slightly uncomfortable with the idea that her growth and maturity can be measured by how she treats the men in her life. To quote Taylor, "if a man talks sh*t, then I owe him nothing," which is to say she doesn't have to be graceful and classy towards men who wouldn't extend the same kindness back. We're allowed to hate people who hurt us! (Note: I'm not suggesting that SallyTheSwiftie from Tumblr should send death threats to Jake Gyllenhaal because he broke up with Taylor Swift ten years ago, just that Taylor herself doesn't have to forgive him for that.)
So long story short, we're pivoting. Fortunately, the Eras Tour is rife with inspiration for think pieces -- through it, Taylor became monoculture, a fixture in the economy, the culture, the political landscape, and even the sports scene. We're going to hone in one three different Tug of War struggles occurring on stage over the past two years, three push-and-pull dynamics fighting for dominance as Taylor belted the Cruel Summer bridge in every major city across the globe.
Billionaire Ethics
Taylor Swift became a billionaire while on tour. Yes, she donated millions to charities and food banks, gave upwards of $250 million to the workers and backstage crew on tour with her, and spent her first weekend with no commitments visiting a Children's Hospital with no press present, but does that absolve her of the dirty aura that surrounds the title given today's class wealth gap? It's hard to imagine her sitting at the same tables as Elon Musk and Bill Gates, but the truth is she's far closer to them than she ever will be to us.
I'm not informed enough on billionaire economics to engage in discussions of whether she "deserves" to be a billionaire, whatever that means. But what I will say is this: nobody becomes a billionaire by accident. This wealth didn't accidentally befall her while she was pursuing songwriting in the purest artistic sense. She has spent her career organizing it like a machine: flooding merchandise (no matter how poorly designed or made) through every channel she can, releasing 34 editions of albums to boost streaming numbers and game the charts, rewarding fans who purchase the most by inviting them to "Secret Sessions" and private meet-and-greets.
This merchandise is produced in Honduras and China, presumably not sustainably or ethically. Furthermore, once accumulated, she uses her wealth with reckless abandon, hopping on private jets to fly from Singapore to New Orleans twice in one weekend to watch her boyfriend toss a football around in transparent tights. She likely pays less than 10% in taxes, like all billionaires have been trained, taught, and encouraged to do. Her engagement with politics and social causes is performative and shaky at best, and another malicious tactic to hoard dollars at worst. She's deliberately obscuring her wealth status, opting to engage in philanthropy by writing anonymous checks instead of institutionalizing a Foundation in her name to distribute her immense wealth in full public view.
Of course, fans and capitalists alike will argue that it is not her moral responsibility to do anything more with her money. We certainly aren't holding Elon Musk to any such standards, and he's much richer and far less morally scrupulous than Taylor. But while Taylor started her tour in the hyper-consumptive Barbie universe, where spending on girlhood seemed as good an expense as any, she ends it in the world of Luigi Mangione, one with an enraged middle class and a billionaire class overly cushioned from the brutalities and realities of this increasingly unstable world. It's hard to think of Taylor's aggressive wealth hoarding as cute or girlbossy anymore, which makes it slightly unsettling to see her traipse around, from city to city, on a giant "buy things with my face on it!" campaign.
And make no mistake -- that's ultimately what the Eras tour is.
Court Jester or King?
Regardless of how many Eat the Rich posters we hold up at parades, truthfully most fans are not deeply conflicted about Taylor's billionaire status. It seems...inconsequential, and perhaps obvious -- of course the greatest living songwriter has a lot of money? If not her, then who? Casual fans are barely aware of the ethical quandaries of her wealth status, and more deep-dyed supporters can easily reason through the cognitive dissonance -- maybe I don't support billionaires in theory, but of course Taylor is an exception! And this, honestly, makes sense. I, too, don't support billionaires, but joke about marrying into wealth all the time. Isn't part of love forgiving the less-than-perfect qualities in another?
But funnily enough, forgiving isn't a word I can use to describe Swift's fandom. In fact, over the last two years, fans are irate and incensed at Taylor over everything, everywhere all at once. Or perhaps, irate and incensed at Taylor for being everything, everywhere all at once. Half in annoyance at her deep oversaturation, and half in a fit of bone-deep moral sanctimony, the internet has lit itself aflame over Taylor Swift countless times since she began her tour. First, it was because Los Angeles got better surprise songs than Arizona, and such obvious favoritism is deplorable. Then, it was because she refused to speak out about the terrorist threats in Vienna, and kept dating Matty Healy despite his problematic past. She was too quiet about the election, then too late with her endorsement of Harris. She didn't denounce her boyfriend's brother's wife for her outspoken Trumpism, and didn't announce reputation before the closing night of her show like we hoped she would.
Some of this backlash was ridiculous, and Taylor let us know that she thought so -- But Daddy I Love Him is full of unfiltered hatred towards the "wine moms" writing "soliloquys" about her relationships and politics, in a familiar tantrum directed, for the first time, at the fans, not the media. The Eras Tour became a never-ending conversation between the artist and her fans, one told through a thousand small easter eggs and fashion choices. And, as a result, we discussed for the first time, the paramount question of art: what standards do we hold the artist to? What standards should we hold them to?
This question of separating artists and their art, the brilliant and deranged from the brilliance they create while deranged, is one that never quite goes away. Do I not care what Taylor's politics are because I trust that they're probably good-ish? Is all that I want to know that she's vaguely on my side? Are political opinions contagious -- that is, does her dating Matty Healy or hugging Brittany Mahomes demonstrate amorality or immorality or neither? Do Taylor's political opinions even run deep enough to reflect a deeper morality, or are they as surface level as the bodysuits she slips on every night? Is she responsible for the public backlash to the men she dates, given that she invites para-social speculation about her relationships to garner more attention and money? In fact, this summer, artists everywhere have been asking these very questions: is Chappell Roan arrogant for refusing to sign CDs on her day off with her family? Should photographers be allowed to scream at overwhelmed celebrities posing on the red carpet? How much infidelity should we allow before cancelling Ariana Grande for good, regardless of her raw vocal talent? As the famous and their fans get closer and closer, and society's morality becomes increasingly pious, the role of Hollywood in our collective cultural decay becomes blurrier. Are celebrities responsible for the consequences of pop culture?
I've said in previous blogposts that I view our entertainers in Hollywood as court jesters -- they're there for the silliness, and shouldn't be asked to speak on the policy, economic, and moral issues they know nothing about. But the truth is, Taylor cannot be considered a court jester. Not when she has a billion dollars of real money, and a billion more in social currency to influence voters and politicians. Not when she molds the minds and ethics of the countless young girls who hang onto her every word. In this light, she begins to look more like the King, which comes with an entirely new set of responsibilities she seems, frankly, reluctant to accept.
New Coronations
The power of the King includes, but is not limited to, the right to select a successor. And Taylor took the Eras Tour to do just that: 2024's Pop Girl Summer was simultaneously a return to the throne for our most established performers -- Beyonce, Taylor, Ariana -- and an emergence of a new class of artists, all benefitting from the excess Swift Karma spilling over onto their career. Sabrina Carpenter partnered with Taylor's longtime collaborator, Jack Antonoff, to secure her first Grammy nominations this year, and Gracie Abrams released her most successful album to date (with a Track 5 Taylor feature, notably) in between legs of the Eras Tour. Beyond just taking musical inspiration from her, Carpenter and Gracie borrowed heavily from Swift's textbook on navigating public boyfriends, using their relationships with Barry Keoghan and Paul Mescal respectively to catalyze public interest in their careers.
Few other artists have this kind of "overflow" impact or are trusted to become taste-makers in such a significant way. So here, too, Taylor holds more power than it first seems; she influences the entire music industry by tying friendship bracelets around the wrists of young ingenues, marks artists as her "children" with precision and care. And while generous, Taylor is never selfless -- once openly threatened by Olivia Rodrigo's success, Swift notably stopped her lavish and public praise of Rodrigo's budding career, cleanly breaking all ties that might allow Rodrigo to ride the Taylor coattails.
But in truth, Olivia is the closest thing Taylor has to a true musical daughter, because she is another rare artist who has been given this taste-maker power. Before Gracie opened for Taylor, she was a featured guest on the SOUR World Tour, and the stated inspiration for drivers license, Rodrigo's hit single. Similarly, the GUTS World Tour featured opener Chappell Roan, who was touring alongside Olivia as she exploded in popularity this year. In fact, Rodrigo's batting average is almost better than Swift's, since several of Taylor's other opening acts have not seen such instant or meteoric rises post-Eras.
(Also, unrelated, but if I could amend my Pop Girl Draft from this summer, My Kink is Karma or California by Chappell would 100% find its way on there.)
All of this to say, much like the power of wealth and influence, Taylor holds her ability to choose an heir like a glass orb that might break if overhandled. She isn't quite done yet, and is therefore unwilling to release the kingdom keys. Instead, she strategically chooses non-threats, either by size or niche, and distances herself from the few true stars budding out of the next generation.
This is perhaps the most interesting note to end on: Taylor, the girl who built a career off of never feeling cool, is now the perpetual It Girl, with ridiculous amounts of influence and no idea how to spend it. The things she likes, we like, so she's hesitant to promote anything, from brands to policies to causes to people. The things she thinks, we think, except when we don't, in which case we will castigate her for it endlessly and without mercy, like Victorian Era nobility tar-and-feathering the improper. She holds the dreams of a hundred million little girls in her pocket, which means nobody is as supported or as suffocated as she is. So how does she manage it all?
Well, that's a story for another day.
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