The Eras Tour: Taylor Swift’s Greatest Love Song

Taylor Swift

The cynical view of Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour goes something like this: let’s take a cash grab tour of her past lovers and public debacles through songs that may have changed genres two or three times, but all sound the same. (They don’t.)

The critical view goes something like this: after mastering country, pop, and indie, are we looking at the next all-time great? (Ignoring the fact that, if she were a man, she’d already be lauded as being there.)

The delusion fan view goes something like this: Is this algebraic formula an Easter egg? (No.) Taylor Swift is for the girls, gays, and theys and straight men shouldn’t be allowed at the tour. (This is exhausting.) I bought all four versions so I could have a clock. (Okay, this one is more on Taylor’s incredible mind for capitalism; but, c’mon folks, it’s the same record. You only need one copy.) Etc.

Somewhere in the middle of this wild and inaccurate Venn diagram of discourse is the truth: we are witnessing something not quite before seen in history. Taylor has achieved something not seen in decades: monoculture. She’s the zeitgeist. Everyone seemingly has something to say about it. Including me.

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Furnace Fest and Thoughts on Legacy

Furnace Fest

The second year of the rebirth of Furnace Fest has come and gone, the weekend flying by even faster than I expected, and I’m probably buying a pre-order ticket for next year after I submit this write-up. I still remember the 2021 iteration as if I attended it last weekend, not over 365 days ago. My ears are still ringing, even though I wore my ear plugs a lot more faithfully this year. My legs still haven’t quite found their full strength again yet, and the less said about my lower back the better. It’s a special weekend and I am so thankful I’ve gotten to experience it twice.

I showed up to a Zoom conference with my freelance client at 6:45pm on the following Monday, still coughing and blowing dust out of my nose every few minutes. My face was slightly sunburnt from three days spent in the Alabama sunshine. Throughout the meeting, I couldn’t stop yawning. Eventually, my client goes, “You look like you had a fun weekend. What were you doing?”

“I was at this metal, hardcore, punk festival thing down in Birmingham.”

“Of all of the things you could’ve said, that is the one thing I wouldn’t have expected from you.”

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A Farewell to mewithoutYou

mewithoutYou

About eight years ago, I was sitting at a picnic table looking out at the lake near my house. I was listening to Catch For Us the Foxes, not a record for a sunny day, feeling the wood grain under my fingertips, in search of a little hope. It had rained so vehemently the night before that the level of the lake was up over ten feet. The sun shone so bright and the earth was so freshly washed that the greens of the trees and the blues of the water were the most vibrant I’d ever seen at this park. The water flowing through the dam was roaring loud enough to be heard over my music. The temperature was perfect in only the way a day after rain breaks the weather pattern can be.

“Tie me up! Untie me! All this wishing I was dead is getting old. It’s getting old! It goes on, but it’s old.”

I’ve written about my experiences with depression before and the albums that have helped along the way. But I’ve never written about mewithoutYou, or Aaron Weiss in particular, and how important they’ve been in that same journey. They were never a band I could easily talk about or explain; for me, they always had to be experienced to be understood. In large part, I think I’m having trouble finding the words because, quite frankly, I’m not saying goodbye. I’ll be listening to these records for the rest of my life. So I guess I’m saying thank you.

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