Haters Gonna Hate -- Why I'm not ashamed of my love for Taylor Swift

There was a time in my life when I would not have considered listening to Taylor Swift's music. I hadn't heard any of her songs, of course; I just lumped her in with all the other pop-stars whom I perceived to be cookie-cutter sell-outs. 1989 changed all that for me, as I wrote about here.  Now, one of the secrets of being a grown-up is that you don't have to apologize for the things you like. I don't have any cool, hipster posturing to do to prove that I like or dislike the "right" things. But as a professor of English and songwriting who got there by becoming a Bob Dylan expert, my love for Taylor Swift probably seems odd to some people, including some of my students, who have told me, outright, to stop listening to Taylor Swift. So here are 5 reasons why I think Taylor Swift legitimately deserves my fandom:

1. She knows how to craft a song.

I'm not naive about the writing process for huge pop stars -- I know it's not a solo effort. Nevertheless, Swift came to the music scene as a songwriter first, she has a hand in all her songs, and her pop gems are exceedingly well-crafted. There are the obvious points -- that she's so good at solid hooks that you were probably singing along to "Shake it Off" the first time you heard it and that she makes the personal details of her life relatable to the personal details of every fan's life. But what strikes me most is her facility with metaphor -- with making familiar metaphors seem fresh and with extending metaphors across a song in surprising ways. Here are examples from her two most recent singles, "Style," and "Bad Blood:"

First, "Style" immediately struck me with its interesting comparison of a relationship that just won't die to the concept of timeless fashion. But what's impressive is how she twists the metaphor. The idea that "we never go out of style" ought to be a happy one -- and all the nostalgic images of red lips, white t-shirts, and "James-Dean-daydream" looks seem to confirm that happiness. But Swift subtly shows us that this relationship isn't a healthy one -- first, with the minor chords and dark tones in the verses, and second, with the images of the guy arriving at the house in the dark with "no headlights," for a drive that "could end in burning flames or paradise..." and we know which ending it will be because they are apparently doomed to repeat the same drama of lust, love, and heartbreak. It's not James Dean, the "Happy Days"-esque icon who we see here, but James Dean the tragic figure, cut down in his prime. Swift evokes both these versions of James Dean at once, which is what makes this little pop ditty so brilliant.

"Bad Blood" is also impressive for its use of metaphor, particularly since the "Bad Blood" metaphor is a bit worn. The chorus isn't especially unique in its language, and anyone could use "Bad Blood" as she uses it there and not be expected to draw out the metaphor in the verses and the bridge. What sets Swift apart from many of her peers is how she extends and freshens an otherwise worn comparison throughout the song by returning to the "literal" aspect of this old figure of speech and focusing in on physical blood. Suddenly, other cliches like "hit me where I'm weak," "salt in the wound," and "knife in the back," gain new life when viewed in the context of creating the bad blood that flows between the subject and the object of this story. The bridge gives us the perfectly quotable, alliterative line, "bandaids don't fix bullet holes," providing the crux of the song in five words. In the past, the phrase "bad blood" was such a cliche that it had lost its meaning for me. In Taylor Swift's "Bad Blood," she sets the definitions and reclaims the cliche in the process.

2. She's a writer who knows how to "show" not "tell."

Any writer or writing teacher knows that "showing" instead of "telling" (i.e. providing specific, sense-bound details for a reader instead of a general, conceptual version of the same thing) makes for the most effective writing. Taylor Swift excels at these details. "When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors" in "Welcome to New York" tells us worlds more about life in New York city than "We were poor and couldn't afford much." Lines like "You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color," and "we decided to move the furniture so we could dance, baby, like we stood a chance," both show us interesting details from the relationship in "Out of the Woods" and tell us something about the passion and fragility of their relationship. These are only a few of many examples of Swift's ability to "show" instead of "tell" in her songs.

3. She's good to her fans.

I can't think of any other artists who would randomly send their fans hand-picked, hand-wrapped, personalized Christmas presents, can you?

4. She's a champion of other female artists.

It's easy to become competitive with other artists, but Taylor Swift champions them. This quote from her 2014 Rolling Stone interview pretty much sums it up:

As an example [of a female friend and artist], she cites her pal Lorde, whom she calls Ella. "It's like this blazing bonfire," Swift says. "You can either be afraid of it because it's so powerful and strong, or you can go stand near it, because it's fun and it makes you brighter."

5. She seems to determined to "be herself" -- no matter what.

Taylor Swift is known for her authenticity as a writer, so she's quite invested in an image of  "being herself" -- and maybe it really is only an image of authenticity. But if that's the case, she's chosen some strange and dorky aspects of herself to include for her public image (like her confirmed status as a cat lady, for example).  Whoever she "really" is, she is quite skilled at making it look like that goofy, girl-next-store is the real thing, and she anticipates and diffuses her "haters" in advance in a fun, silly, optimistic way in "Shake it Off," encouraging us all to "make the moves up as [we] go," without worrying about the scornful glances of those too cool to get out on the dance floor.