In Defense of Taylor Swift's "Lover"

The other day while scrolling the Spotify homepage, I came across one of those suggested listening sections captioned “It’s Taylor Swift season,” which contained exactly eight of her nine studio albums. The one that was left out? Lover. LOVER. This felt like a personal attack. Not Taylor Swift, not Speak Now, but Lover. I have nothing against these other albums, in fact each Taylor Swift album holds a special place in my heart. But when I have to stand up for Lover, they become my enemies.

Whenever music arises as a conversation topic, I make sure to shamelessly communicate my affinity for Taylor Swift’s free-spirited, butterfly-like album, Lover. My opinion is often shot down in a heartbeat, but I never concede. Because I’m right. And I have this desire to prove I’m right, so much so that I am now writing this article. In honor of all my friends who have flamed my perfectly valid view, and Spotify, who as a company attacked my core beliefs and personal identity, this is my defense of Taylor Swift’s Lover, and why it’s her best album to date.

The cover speaks for itself: pastel pink clouds, a stunning blue sky, and “Lover” printed in sparkling cursive. That is exactly how the one hour and one minute of glittering synths and vibrant drumlines feel. From the whimsical piano that opens “I Forgot That You Existed,” to the poetic close of “Daylight,” each one of the eighteen tracks have their own unique aspects, but they are still distinctly Lover.

So what makes Lover the best? First off, the lyricism is nothing short of impeccable. Like “The damsels are depressed,” in “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince,” or comparing goodbyes to “death by a thousand cuts,” every song has that one heart-wrenchingly beautiful line that pierces the soul.

And unlike most of her other albums, Lover has no low points. Although “ME!” is often cited as the weak link, identity-wise and lyrically, the simplicity of the eccentric self-empowering ballad is often mistaken as childish. Preceded by the heavily introspective “Afterglow,” where Swift takes accountability for the failure of her past relationship, “ME!” advances the narrative and the lighter mood serves as the perfect contrast.

The 2010’s Taylor-esque tracks like “Cruel Summer” and “I Forgot That You Existed,” outshine any highs from 1989, Red, and Fearless, while the slower songs like “Soon You’ll Get Better” and “The Archer,” possess all the positive aspects of evermore and folklore. On top of this, the album’s treasured namesake itself, “Lover,” is innovative beyond anything she’s ever written. It’s the type of song to walk the aisle to. The only other albums that even compare are reputation and folklore, but even then the songs just don’t pop as much as they do in Lover.

V Magazine describes Swift’s album as her “love letter to love.” From the infatuation of “I Think He Knows,” to the euphoria of “Paper Rings,” to the heartache of “Death By A Thousand Cuts,” she weaves such an intricate and cohesive narrative, falling in and out of love, and everything in between.

Love. Such a simple word, yet bursting with so much color. Paralyzingly painful, yet powerful enough to move mountains and sail the seven seas. Four letters that control my world, and Taylor turns it into a magical hour, full of sunshine and shimmers, neatly wrapped up in a bow. Lover. It embodies everything I am. Everything I fantasize about every second of my life. The soundtrack of my hopeless daydreams.

Capturing those melodramatic, movie-like moments, that’s exactly what Swift does with Lover. With tracks that feel like running around the city without a single care in the world, or slow dancing in a field of daisies, or driving to the beach at the golden hour, Swift invents an enchanting world full of everything she loves.

I wanna be defined by the things that I love

Not the things I hate

Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of

Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night

I, I just think that

You are what you love

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This was written for the October 2022 edition of IVC's Honors Tribune.