The spineless whiner is at it again.
First, she tainted the hallowed grounds of Tiger Stadium at the inaugural Bayou Country Superfest.
Now she’s using the New Orleans Saints’ nationally-televised home opener Thursday as a launching pad for her newest collection of woeful male-dependency anthems.
Yes, Who Dat Nation, we stood up, got crunk and won our first Super Bowl, so to kick off the Saints’ 2010 season we get Taylor Swift.
The problem with Swift’s music: When she’s not crying on the staircase or on her guitar, begging a guy to stay or lamenting the ones who didn’t, what is she doing?
Making obscene amounts of money for it. Heartbreak is incredibly lucrative, and Swift knows it.
In a culture where our favorite lyrics define us, if Taylor Swift spends her time doing all of the above, her fans are undoubtedly following the leader (check your social networking feed for proof).
Her lyrics perpetuate the idea of girls pining endlessly over the guys who got away and guys who aren’t worth it.
Of course, not all of her songs are so depressing. The clichéd “Love Story” and Swift’s latest single, “Mine,” among others, explore what long periods of brooding supposedly lead to. (Hint: it involves princes, horses and the phrase “happily ever after.”)
How many times can she write, sing and act out another bad break-up or the other extreme of deluding herself into the fairy tale mentality?
Reliving those roller coaster emotions with every song is incredibly self-destructive for Swift, her fawning listeners and the innocent bystanders subjected to it.
When Swift’s music becomes the millennial generation’s main model for relationships, people expect the happy ending sooner than they should. And with each disappointment, they resort to
Swift’s favorite method of dealing with it: wallowing in songs of self-pity.
Factor in her recently designed line of greeting cards and voila: Taylor Swift officially monopolizes the commercial romance industry. Pretty impressive for a 20-year-old.
Did I mention she’s also destroying the essence of country music? Contrary to popular belief, the genre’s strong point is storytelling, not just tragedy with twang. But Swift recounts the same old story, set to her guitar of choice and aired on more mainstream top-40 playlists than on any country radio station.
Regarding the two years spent creating her latest CD, Swift said, “You’ve got to give yourself a little bit of time to live a lot of things so you can write about a lot of things.”
According to her music so far, such songwriting requires constant hooking up and breaking up. Based on this track record, Taylor Swift isn’t likely to have any fresh experiences to share with her fans via the new album.
At least the superstar isn’t doing anything outrageous to land herself in rehab or the tabloids. For someone with little talent, she’s handling fame quite modestly, which is refreshing.
She is guilty, however, of the worst type of agenda-setting: subliminally teaching young girls to be dependent on guys for happiness.
Swift is downright manic-depressive in these songs: The single life equals the ultimate despair, but every crush signals a Cinderella story.
Every Taylor Swift concert boasts attendees of all ages. I’d like to think it’s because teenyboppers can’t drive themselves.
Unfortunately, the more plausible reason is everyone from 6-year-old girls to grown women are uniting in this mass mourning of unrequited love.
We all have regrets in such matters, and country music specializes in nostalgia. But the heartbreaker Swift always adores from afar is probably the same cowboy Casanova bashed by Carrie Underwood — the ultimate blonde country crooner — in “Before He Cheats” and “Undo It.”
What matters is your approach, and in the departments of girl power and role model (as well as vocal ability), Underwood overtakes Swift.
I admit I’m partial to the former because she gives LSU a shout-out in one song (Bayou Country Superfest organizers, take note!).
But seriously, the next time you have a bad romance, listen to Carrie — I hear she has a Louisville slugger you can borrow.
 
Kelly Hotard is a 19-year-old mass communication sophomore from Picayune, Miss. Follow her on Twitter @TDR_khotard.
—-
Contact Kelly Hotard at [email protected]