Red (Taylor's Version) – a reflection

November 15, 2021 

My relationship with Taylor Swift was different when RED came out. This was when I began listening to alternative pop and rock, and I wasn’t necessarily in the headspace for a breakup album (more on that later). So naturally my love for Taylor Swift, a songwriter and storyteller whose work transcends generations, fell to the back burner. I was not yet wise enough to appreciate Taylor’s writing, let alone understand the significance of a track like “All Too Well” and what it would mean for someone my age, and generations to come.

I thought I was in love as a sophomore in high school. One time my boyfriend was over and I cried to him that I wasn’t at the RED tour; he said something along the lines of “If you’re going to cry about Taylor Swift instead of pay attention to me, I’ll leave” and I said “Okay bye.” 

Of course, I called his bluff and he stuck around (because I’m a catch). Even when we inevitably broke up, RED wasn’t an album I turned to because I wasn’t sad, I was relieved. This wasn’t my breakup album, at least not at the time. 

Taylor was in her early to mid-twenties when she wrote all of these songs; I’m approaching a quarter century this month and as I listened to RED (Taylor’s Version) this past week, I was overwhelmed. Had I ever listened to these lyrics? It felt like no, I hadn’t, even though in reality I had heard all these songs a million times. But sheesh experience really do be opening your eyes. 

I stayed up until midnight to listen because I have done that for every album (I think even for RED when it originally came out, despite my nonchalance about my Swiftie status at the time). I was really looking forward to the vault tracks, and equally excited as I was terrified about the Phoebe feature. Taylor never does anything half-ass, and it is really powerful to watch her reclaim these songs in a way that honors the integrity of the original versions while still somehow making them better. This is a monstrous feat only someone with Taylor’s (well-earned) self-assuredness and talent can pull off. 

“State of Grace (Taylor’s Version)” kicks off the album with the familiar and deep beat of a drum, like your heartbeat as your crush walks past. Taylor’s voice is so much stronger than it used to be. There’s a confidence in her voice that never could have existed under Scott Borchetta’s reign, and it’s really moving to watch how her growth as an artist and a person has allowed her to find her voice, and a way to reclaim her past. 

“Red (Taylor’s Version)” entailed a maniacal dance party in my living room, jumping onto the ottoman and breathlessly shredding an air guitar (lol I have no shame) after screaming the bridge. “Treacherous” has always been one of my favorites because as a fellow Sagittarius I deeply resonate with that “you realize this is likely going to be BAD but you do it anyway” energy. “Treacherous (Taylor’s Version)” was equally as good, except this time you can hear the smirk in Taylor’s voice as she reflects back on all the ways that this attitude impacted her story. 

“I Almost Do” is high on my list of Taylor songs, and Taylor’s Version is an exceptional rendition, ironically elevated all these years later by the soft twang of a mandolin. I like that with time comes Taylor’s ability to transcend, and even disregard, genre. When she originally released RED, there was such an enormous amount of pressure for her to pick a side: pop or country. Now Taylor has the confidence to execute a song on how she knows it will sound good without the confinement of the unspoken bounds of genre; these small changes signal a significant growth that make the re-recordings extra special. 

Some other highlights are of course, FINALLY, “Better Man (Taylor’s Version)” and a fun rendition of “Babe (Taylor’s Version)”, both of which were at one point passed onto other country artists, to great success (Little Big Town/Tay won a Grammy for Best Country Duo/Group Performance for “Better Man”). HJ

Phoebe Bridgers has had exponential growth in the past year and a half, so her featuring on a vault track was bound to happen. That it so conveniently lined up with my deep Phoebe obsession is just proof that this album wasn’t meant for sixteen year old me, but current me. I anxiously approached “Nothing New (feat. Phoebe Bridgers) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)”, desperately hoping Phoebe’s rising notoriety and popularity would warrant (finally) a full verse and chorus feature from a female singer on a Taylor track. 

What we got was even dreamier than I imagined, like the stars aligned to make this collaboration happen. What’s so moving about this duo, for this song, is their symmetry: Taylor wrote this as she was reaching a level of stardom few seldom do, while Phoebe’s popularity currently skyrockets. Taylor and Phoebe are really only five years apart in age, but for some reason this song feels like it’s somehow indicative of the lack of progress we’ve actually made in the liberation of women; no matter what you look like, what kind of art you make, what your sexual orientation is, society will try to destroy you because we refuse to acknowledge the deep-seated misogyny that plagues LITERALLY this entire universe. 

That being said, I am very glad Taylor finally allotted a full verse and chorus to a female feature, and extra glad that Phoebe was the first. Like a lot of people (particularly women who, prior to the last year, hated Taylor Swift), Taylor was dealing with some deeply internalized misogynistic tendencies. This song, and Phoebe’s full feature, is an acknowledgement of the way women's minds are warped by misogyny, Taylor’s included, and the shame that follows giving into this way of thinking. 

I enjoyed all of the vault tracks, and I’m interested to see which ones grow on me the most. I found “I Bet You Think About Me (feat. Chris Stapleton) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)” extremely charming, with Stapleton’s feature a welcome change from Justin Vernon. That we got an accompanying music video just days after release was the icing on top of a Taylor-clawed, RED velvet cake. 

After all these days, we got the ten minute (and 13 second, duh) version of “All Too Well.” The original version, within five minutes and thirty-one seconds, paints a visceral portrayal of the vulnerability and rawness that comes with heartbreak, the deeply personal moments that come with being completely alone: paralyzed by loneliness and living through the desperate longing for a previous self that hadn’t been involuntarily, emotionally gutted. 

Or something like that, idk. 

The extended version and its accompanying short film are fraught with nostalgia, which is kind of revelatory considering nostalgia is usually associated with positive memories, not traumatic ones. Is there a term for nostalgia for a miserable yet thrilling time of your life? Insanity?

I think it’s pretty obvious that Taylor has all but solidified her status as one of, if not the greatest, songwriter of her generation (and possibly ever??). We didn’t need to hear the ten minute (and 13 second) version to know this. The current climate we live in says a lot more about this release than anything else. 

I don’t know about anyone else, but I was slightly uncomfortable watching Sadie Sink (19 years old) and Dylan O’Brien (30 years old) interact the way they do in the short film. The actors were deliberately chosen because they’re nearly the same age as Swift and Gyllenhall when they dated. Now over a decade later, Gyllenhall gets older but Taylor is right, his lovers don’t: his current girlfriend is 25; he turns 41 this year. 

There’s something to be said about how society allows this kind of weird grooming to happen, but also the way we react to it, which is usually turning a blind eye, or worse in Swift’s case. We blame her for the end of the relationship and call her a monster for preying on men to write songs about them.

Can we…maybe...talk about...the grown man emotionally preying on, and likely emotionally abusing, someone barely old enough to drink? Think about it: a man nearly ten years her senior; meaning ten more years worth of life experience, relationships and emotional development. And that’s without all the societal bullshit that comes with being a woman in her twenties, amplified a million fold because you’re the most famous female teen on the planet. Why do we denounce young women for being vulnerable but say nothing about the way older men prey on that vulnerability to their advantage? 

Taylor turns 32 this year, about a year older than Gyllenhall when they broke up. There’s something full-circle about this, but knowing Taylor, not coincidental. Time has carried her past his invisible age threshold, straight to the emotional maturity and self-assuredness he wanted (expected) her to have. But with time also comes healing, and that’s what makes Red (Taylor’s Version) so beautiful. These 11 years have afforded Taylor the grace and wisdom to understand it’s not a bad thing to willingly and unabashedly give yourself to someone; that there’s nothing shameful in trusting someone you thought loved and valued you, and being hurt when they break that trust. 

Like Swift, I’ve grown quite a bit since RED came out in 2012, and I still have a lot of growing to do. I am a firm believer in reincarnation and karma, and I love how these re-recordings act as a sort of reincarnation of Taylor’s past selves, here to guide us the way she wished someone would have guided her. Red (Taylor’s Version) came just when I needed it, and now it’s my version too.

Find RED (Taylor’s Version) featured on my latest creation: sad girl autumn 2021 (below)