I relate to both Ryan Adams and Taylor Swift and that feels impossible.
Impossible only with respect to the response of Adams’ 1989, a track-by-track recreation of Swift’s universally beloved 2014 record. Fans on the Ryan Adams side have dismissed the project from its first tease. As the rock ‘n’ roll Bible clearly states, “Thou shalt not covet the craft of those dating Calvin Harris.” Or more specifically: all popular music. Studies show people stop listening to new music at age 33 and when you’re the age of the Lord, you can just decree Ryan Adams is the last relevant songwriter for the rest of time and everything after is an echo into a transient void.
Meanwhile, Taylor Swift fans are quick to defend the core of 1989, arguing the record was perfectly substantive to begin with; there’s no need for Adams to mansplain Swift’s emotions.
This issue of necessity is at the root of most criticism of Adams’ 1989. Unfortunately, this distracts from successful outcomes of this project. That’s how we should prioritize art criticism, right? Recognize, for instance, Adams’ creative decisions in making this record his own. Beyond the reverb-heavy, late eighties musical reworking, there’s the occasional, subtle lyric edit. For example, in “Style” Adams changes “James Dean, daydream look in your eyes” to “Daydream Nation look in your eyes” a reference to the Sonic Youth record released in 1988.
This redressing of 1989 is far from disingenuous; if anything, slight contextualization tells me Adams truly “gets” the Swift sentiment. And he’s not alone. So many connect with 1989 because like many great pop records it channels themes (and picks at scabs) we can all relate to. On his version, Adams successfully paints these platitudes of meandering independence, love-on-the-brink and destructive affairs as his own. Bottom line: a 25 year-old woman’s words are convincing coming from the mouth of a 40 year-old man. Without a doubt, that is a compliment to Taylor Swift’s universal, and at least in reverse, timeless voice.
A lot of folks like Ryan Adams for the same relatable charm. While his most of his catalogue is whiskey-soaked Americana, some of his best (and worst) projects are ventures into pop music. This is all to say Taylor Swift has the requisite material to make a Ryan Adams covers album called 1974.
Do it! Do it! Do it!
Adams actually has recorded a song dedicated to his birth year called “1974.” Don’t bother Googling it – it’s forgettable enough that Swift should just lift the title for her covers project. Adams has no one Swiftian record, although Demolition comes close. So I’ve come up with 13 tracks across his library that I think fit Swift’s character. Taylor, if you’re reading, please keep the sequencing in order. It tells a story! Thank you!
Side A
New York, New York
All the best albums start with a song about New York: 1989, Carly Rae Jepson’s Kiss…the list is endless. This music video was shot on September 7th, 2001, which presents a unique visual accompaniment to the song’s “don’t look back in anger” theme. It’s an all-American, door-kicking first track.
Nuclear
The first track from the aforementioned Demolition is a loud, shimmering reflection of a destructive relationship. That’s right in Taylor Swift’s wheelhouse, right? I mainly just want to hear Swift growl “Shut up and go to sleep.”
Love Is Hell
My favorite part of this song is the very thing I think Taylor Swift could improve. Adams drags the weathered inspiration of the track into a three lettered chorus, barely belting out what sounds like “Love is el”. He actually sounds wounded and it makes the track convincing and oh so devastating. But a confident, honey-voiced version? That could be just as powerful.
Oh My God, Whatever, Etc
Obviously parts of this song – hourly hotel stays and double shifts – don’t exactly scream “pop princess.” But at its core is a song about loneliness and our innate, magnetic pull away from solitude. We all have nights and relationships we can’t easily explain for fear of admitting this. Yes, even T-Swift.
So Alive
In 2003, following the sudden guitar-pop success of bands like the Strokes, Ryan Adams spend two short weeks recording the tongue-in-cheek album Rock N Roll. The result is purposefully flippant and phoned-in, but the sugary single “So Alive” is objectively fun. It’s my vote for 1974‘s life-affirming pop track you scream from the highest tower.
Firecracker
When Katy Perry sings about fireworks, she’s commenting on the incredible, bright potential we all have within. That’s a sweet message, Katy, but fireworks are also inherently fleeting and forgettable. All of these qualities Adams admits he’s willing to be for a woman for one night. That doesn’t mean “Firecracker” is a chest-beating, “You know you want it” boner invite; Adams’ humble offering to “Maybe be your baby tonight?” is way more approachable.
Sweet Illusions
Ryan Adams playing the role of disposal loverfool ends in a lot of heartbreak and thankfully for the rest of us he translates that into stunning works like “Sweet Illusions.” Swift certainly has the Nashville break-up experience to give this cover the proper weight.
Side B
Oh My Sweet Valentine
The lesser known of Ryan Adam’s “Oh My Sweet” songs. This unreleased track comes from a live 1999 recording in Tennessee when Adams was Taylor Swift’s age, 25. Adams had just ended his run with Whiskeytown and invited Gillian Welch to help perform some of his first solo material. The set is some of my favorite Adams songwriting and, not surprisingly, quietly runs parallel to 1989 themes.
Starting to Hurt
Sonically, this is a Taylor Swift song. Just…I don’t know, maybe don’t take a literal reading of the lyrics. According to Adams, this one’s about a woman who went to the top of a Nashville building, handed someone her baby and jumped. “You can’t begin to imagine how she must have been feeling but I tried,” he told Uncut magazine. Now consider the line “And I hope you’re here, when I hit the ground.” Woof.
Call Me On Your Way Back Home
Another one about heartbreak and boy does this one cut deep. Now that I’m thinking about it, the line “I just wanna die without you” makes this second half so very, very dark. I’m not sorry at all. If Taylor Swift wants to sit on a stool and strum this, while admitting love was lost because “honey I was just a kid,” well, I won’t be the one to stop her.
Burning Photographs
Another from the “failed” Rock N Roll project. A couple tracks to be down and out, but here’s where Adams emerges from the murky waters like a born-again Flipper. Turns out Ryan Adams don’t need you! “I used to be sad now I’m just bored with you,” he says with a hairflip. Whaaaaa? 1974 is a decent collection of covers AND it features a thematic heel turn?! TAKE MY MONEY!!!
Hallelujah
There’s some debate that this song is about Adams being artistically imprisoned while he was with Whiskeytown. At any rate, it’s most certainly a song about letting go. 1989‘s “Clean” taught us this is a subject Taylor Swift is comfortable embracing in detail and prayer emoji for that.
Starlight Diner
An unheralded track on an under-appreciated Ryan Adams record, 29. That album features nine tracks, one supposedly representing each year of his twenties. The overall theme: wow your twenties are kinda difficult!
In “Starlight Diner,” Adams rattles off meandering young adult uncertainties as he waits for a girl outside a diner. Most of the songs above in this hypothetical 1974 play with notions of certainty and comfort, largely brought on by love. Love can make you so sure about the world. But when the girl Adams is meeting is simply not present it affords him an opportunity to question everything. It’s a moment of horror, but also critical self-awareness.
You could argue “Starlight Diner” is an alternate approach to “Blank Space.” Neither is right or better. To experience both, in your roaring twenties, is not that impossible.