I never thought listening to a Taylor Swift song would make me want to do a line of cocaine and tease my hair like an ’80s rock star, yet that’s how I feel after listening to songs on Ryan Adams’ “1989” cover album.
When indie Internet chatter lit up with whispers in early August that Alt-Country songwriter Ryan Adams may release a tribute LP to Taylor Swift’s “1989,” Swift herself tweeted Adams to get confirmation. “Is this true??????? I WILL PASS OUT,” Swift tweeted at Adams on Aug. 6.
While the indie music community was reluctant, Swift’s fan base, myself included, wondered, “Who the hell is Ryan Adams and why is he covering bae’s masterpiece?”
A thorough Google search revealed Adams is a former member of Alt-Country band Whiskeytown with an acclaimed solo career. Adams is also a poet, a painter and suffers from Meniere’s disease, so he’s basically the king of hipsters. In mainstream pop culture, Adams’ biggest takeaway is his recent divorce to Mandy Moore.
Given his hipster credentials, it’s baffling Adams would want to cover Swift’s “1989.” He says it’s because he’s a fan of her songwriting and “badass tunes.”
As a fan, I concur with Adams’ opinion. Swift was, and still is, a rock critic’s darling. Rolling Stone recently ranked her at 97 on its “100 Greatest Songwriters of All Time” list, the youngest person on the list.
At 20-years-old, she became the youngest winner of the coveted “Album of the Year” at the 2010 Grammys for her album “Fearless,” which was written and recorded when Swift was just 17 and 18 years old.
Even though Swift’s music has the support of critics, her well-documented personal life often overshadows her songwriting for a lot of general listeners outside her fan base. The typical alpha male equating Swift to a psycho ex-girlfriend is a commonplace comparison, thanks to Swift’s long list of ex-lovers.
When Swift releases a new album, a guessing game of who each song is about comes with it. Swift practically encourages this by hiding secret messages within the album’s lyrics for fans to decode.
Swift, whether she cares to admit it, turned her personal life into a multi-million-dollar business and a national pastime. This is unfortunate because underneath it all, she truly is a skilled songwriter.
How many songwriters thought to describe being a twentysomething as “happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time?” “It’s miserable and magical,” Swift sang on her 2013 hit “22.”
Swift’s celebrity is why many don’t take her and her music seriously. Which sucks, because she has an uncanny ability to describe feelings everyone feels yet don’t know how to express.
Adams is removing all tabloid baggage that accompanies a Swift record by removing Swift. No one wonders if Adams’ version of “Style” is about Harry Styles.
Adams replaces many of Swift’s soaring, anthemic choruses with intimate, guitar-ridden affairs. For example, Swift’s version of “Blank Space” was a snarky way of addressing her tabloid persona and accusations of her being boy crazy. Adams’ version is a bittersweet, melancholic tale of longing.
Adams lets Swift’s songwriting shine through in a new light by scaling back on the pop production throughout the album.
This is perfectly showcased on Adams’ take of “Out of the Woods.”
While Swift’s version paired with ’80s synths and urgent-sounding production, Adams’ version peels back the layers and puts the lyrics first. “Remember when we couldn’t take the heat? I walked out and said I was setting you free,” he croons over guitar strums and a rhythmic drum.
As a whole, Adams’ “1989” brings forth an array of emotions which contrast to how Swift’s original versions made me feel. “Out of the Woods” makes me want to cry. “Style” makes me want to tease my bangs and headbang along. “I Know Places” makes me want to have an affair with a sexy spy.
I thought I loved Swift’s “1989,” but after listening to Adams’ version, I love his more. And that’s OK.
Thanks to Adams, an entirely new audience will be able to appreciate the songwriting of one of my favorite artists. Taking Swift out of “1989” opens a superb record to listeners who refuse to acknowledge Swift’s talents.
Just because Swift isn’t the person singing the songs doesn’t mean it’s difficult to discern they are her songs. The line “You’re still all over me like a wine stained shirt I can’t wear anymore,” from closing track “Clean” pretty much sums it up.
A Swift-less Swift album is the best thing to happen to her career.
John Gavin Harp is a 20-year-old mass communication Junior from St. Francisville, Louisiana. You can reach him on Twitter @SirJohnGavin.