The two cliches used to describe the new release by a major star are that it’s long-awaited and eagerly anticipated. You could hardly describe Taylor Swift’s 11th studio album as long-awaited – it’s barely 18 months since her last album, Midnights, a blink of an eye in the release schedule of a pop superstar. She’s also put out another three hours of music in the interim, in the shape of bonus track-packed re-recordings of 2010’s Speak Now and 2014’s 1989. But The Tortured Poets Department is certainly eagerly anticipated. The torrential nature of Swift’s output is one reason behind her current position as not just pop’s biggest star, but a figure who dominates pop culture to such a preposterous degree you struggle for a historical comparison: we live in a world where her endorsement of a candidate is considered a potentially deciding factor in the US presidential elections and where the prime minister of Singapore is embroiled in a row with his Thai counterpart over exclusivity rights to the south-east Asian leg of Swift’s Eras tour.
Among the countless other factors in her rise to omnipresence – her keen understanding of today’s altered media landscape and a desire for collective experience in a music world obsessed with individualised experiences – is, of course, her music, which can dim in comparison to the media noise. That’s a shame, because, as The Tortured Poets Department underlines, Swift is an authentically skilled songwriter: melodically gifted, thoughtful, witty and willing to take risks in a risk-averse era for pop.
