Lyrics from the album that read like a good book:

"I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss/I knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs" from "Cardigan"

"Second, third and hundredth chances/Balancing on breaking branches" from "Exile"

"I’m only seventeen, I don’t know anything/But I know I miss you" from "Betty"

"All these people think love’s for show/But I would die for you in secret " from "Peace"

"We gather stones never knowing what they’ll mean/Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring" from "My Tears Ricochet"

Brutally honest and beautifully raw, Taylor Swift's album Folklore feels like sliding into the pages of a collection of twisted fairytales. On July 23, 2020, Swift took to Twitter and surprised everyone, even her closest friends, by saying she’d be releasing her eighth studio album at midnight: “an entire album of songs that I’ve poured all of my whims, dreams, fears, and musings into.” The album was written and recorded entirely during isolation. With epic narratives containing characters from high schoolers naively entangled in a love triangle to a feminist “middle class divorcee”, these songs transport listeners into Taylor’s whimsical imagination. It’s a magical world that has something for everyone, especially the lonely, the lovers, and the misfits.

Less autobiographical than previous albums Reputation (2107), 1989 (2014), or Red (2012) and more focused on the stories of those who inspire and amuse her, Folklore reveals a richer and more fully realized narrative world. Exile, the fourth song on the record featuring Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, draws emotional performances from both singers. Lyrics like “I can see you starin’, honey. Like he’s just your understudy. Like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me,” convey an intense dialogue between two lovers and paint a vivid picture of longing and loss. Betty, Cardigan, and August weave together the stories of James, Betty, and Inez, three teenagers falling foolishly in love who are trapped in the icy hallways and feelings of hopelessness that come with being 17. Swift says the songs “explore a love triangle from all three people’s perspectives at different times in their lives,” — an idea both more complex and more intense than Swift’s earlier releases. Her ability to connect these stories not only makes the album interesting to listen to, but shows us Swift's growth as an artist. 

Seven — both the seventh song on the record and about Swift at 7 — centers childhood memories of swinging above a creek in the Pennsylvania pines. This lullaby not only captures the gothic heart of this record, but the essence of what Swift is trying to convey. Aaron Dessner, member of American rock band The National and Swift’s producer, points to what he calls, “one of the most important lines” on the album: “And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on.” “That’s what this album is doing,” he says. “It’s passing down. It’s memorializing love, childhood, and memories. It’s a folkloric way of processing.”

Following the soothing sounds of Seven are the bouncy beats of August (the closest thing to a pop song on the record). The rhythm builds and the melody quickens; it makes you want to get in your car, roll down the windows, and attempt to belt out the bridge. Seven fast forwards to August in both sound and story. Swift goes from a young girl enchanted by the summer sun to a woman feeling the cold for the first time. “August slipped away like a bottle of wine,” she sings in uptempo contrast to the hazy folk soul of Folklore. The contrast between these two tunes encapsulates the dance between the perky sounds of Swift’s past and the melancholy moments of now.

Folklore reveals a splendid new side of Swift: the eccentric stories display a deepening of her lyricism while the indie-folk-meets-pop melodies capture a newfound softness in her sound. So here’s to the lonely, the lovers, and the misfits these songs are not only meant for, but they are about. By hinting at the core of our collective isolation, Swift has created a kingdom where all are welcomed and all feel a little less alone.