Review: Is Taylor Swift’s ‘Midnights’ a sleeper hit or lullaby?

Despite the curatorial nature of the medium, Taylor Swift’s approach to songwriting has always been rooted in a sense of authenticity, which has set her mastery apart from many of her contemporaries. The 32-year-old darling has built a career on accessibility and relatability, with a plethora of people finding solace in her music. All of her albums are guaranteed to be written by the artist herself, so it’s not hard to expect the creation of a vulnerable, comforting atmosphere. It’s what Swift does best. 

From easter eggs about acorns and Tiktok glitches to Variety Superbowl goose chases, there had been a steady stream of speculation that Swift had been up to something; fans had been predicting the re-release of worldwide hit album “1989” all the way up to “Midnights’” announcement at the 2022 MTV Video Music Awards. 

What would this project sound like, given that this album would be the first autobiographical one since 2019’s “Lover”? Prior to the album’s release, there had been 13 mentions of midnights in Swift’s extensive lyrical catalog, the same number as the tracklist. Coincidence? Not for a woman known for her meticulous planning. “Midnights” nods to much of Swift’s post-Alwyn discography musically, with strong allusions to tracks such as “You Are In Love,” “Call It What You Want” and “Dress.” 

If you’re able to ignore the absurdity of the Zoë Kravitz credit, opener “Lavender Haze” follows the pattern of incredibly solid album trail markers. Lyrically similar to “Delicate,” this pulsating track is chock-full of references to ‘50s feminism, and it’s clear that Swift’s ability to pen the most infectious melodies has not disappeared. 

Right after the “Anti-Hero” episode of “Midnight Mayhems with Me,” Swift’s (alleged) departure from her typically coy album rollouts in the form of straight-forward track list reveals, she released an accompanying video claiming that it was “one of my favorite songs I’ve ever written.” She would be alone in that sentiment. The track is cobbled together in an attempt at authenticity, much like everyone’s favorite sexy baby, Renesmee Cullen. No amount of Swiftie-imprinting could save this song.

Unfortunately, this would merely be the beginning of the downward slope of this album. The eight-song traverse from “Anti-Hero” to “Labyrinth” falls prey to a phenomenon I’d like to call the Jack An-turn-off Syndrome. Save for the “Lover”-esque “Midnight Rain,” these songs are much like what happens when you spend midnights with a frat bro: a lack of climax. 

Many Swifties will continue to enjoy the album despite the quality of these skippable tracks, but remember that these are songs, not men. We shouldn’t be putting their personality over their performance. 

If “Vigilante Shit” was a contender to conjure up the campy villain from her magnum opus, “reputation,” the camp is more noticeable in the epic failure of an attempt which it is. With lyrics fit for the Lifetime channel, this track feels like the soundtrack for white girls who are going to dress up as the Taylor Swifts from the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video… using mom’s old stockings. This throwback is bad, and it shouldn’t be something that Swift should do over and over and over again. 

Thankfully, the 2016-tinged dark period in this album comes to a stark halt with the ecstatic “Karma.” This track introduces the idea that Taylor can write a biting track despite her lack of an ex to write about since 2016. There’s only one thing that would elevate the song from its already-pristine state: adding the line “Karma is a gay icon.”

Following that, the closer track “Mastermind” is another entry into Swift’s exploration of womanhood. As she sings, “You see, all the wisest women / Had to do it this way / ‘Cause we were born to be the pawn / In every lover’s game.” There’s an attitude that Swift sings with, as if to say “not a lot going on at the moment” without actually meaning it. It’s a well-earned punchline, as her masterful whims have always led the industry.

Unfortunately, even the strongest of Swift’s catalog would not be able to eclipse the emaciated mid-section of this project, with ugly ducklings like that of “Snow on the Beach” shouldering much of the burden. For a collaboration with “Stargirl Interlude” potential, not only did Swift deliver a Lana-at-Saturday-Night-Live mistake of a song but she did it without even allowing Lana near said beach. Del Rey was now part of Taylor’s “background brigade,” along with other female headliners such as Maren Morris, HAIM, Colbie Caillat and the Dixie Chicks. 

With all these factors taken into account, “Midnights” deserved a 2 out of 5 stars.

That was, until the clock rang thrice on the morn of the 21st.  This was the moment, as Ed Sheeran had once sang, that everything had changed. Seven new songs came as a plea for redemption, flaunting three much-missed Aaron Dessner co-writes. 

For an album that had rooted in unintentional motifs of four-on-the-floor drum machines, synths and basslines too similar to that of Lorde, Dessner’s arrival was an immaculate antithesis to the missteps in the album’s first release — a breath from the “drought that was the very worst.” His dense instrumentation on the magnificent “The Great War” must have inspired Antonoff to awaken from his slumber to create the album’s chef-d’oeuvre: “Bigger Than The Whole Sky,” the coalescence of Swift’s best qualities.

Swift’s folkloric writing ability makes a much-appreciated return in this gorgeous ballad. With a backing track that recalls “Lover”’s album-closer “Daylight,” this is the reflective, self-antagonizing anthem that “Anti-Hero” purported to be: “Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness.” This meditation becomes a cinematic wonder that begs listeners to embark on a midnight ride and contemplate life, much like Swift and her various pens had been doing. 

If Swift were to have written Rina Sawayama’s sophomore album “Hold The Girl,” she would’ve made “Dear Reader” the cornerstone. It would be sacrilegious to end a project without ethereal piano, and Swift delivers exactly that, with risers and pads as atmospheric accents. Swift’s strength as a purveyor of literary references works so well in her lyricism, and her usage of Jane Eyre’s infamous line, “Dear reader, I married him,” introduces many new complexities to the already stellar track. 

Antonoff must not be a Starbucks lover, as his work has begun to feel tired. If he had been well rested from not having to operate within the nightmare blunt rotation of the industry’s strongest female artists, he may have caught some of Swift’s absurd lyrics that she managed to sprinkle throughout the project. Contenders for craziest lines range from awkward phrasings such as “Now it’s like snow at the beach / Weird, but fucking beautiful” and “I’ll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror” to double-takes like “Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby / And I’m a monster on the hill” and “Lock broken, slur spoken / Wound open, game token.”

“Midnights” boasted a release full of enough surprises, content and memes to satisfy even the most voracious fan. However, when the musical integrity falters to the extent it does on this album, these tactics fall to futility. Adult pop, a genre that Swift has struggled with in the past, is not meant to be just childrens’ songs with profanity and mentions of hard drugs. Sophisticated (yet consumable) music should not be an unreachable feat for the creator of the 2021 GRAMMYs’ Album of the Year. 

For her 10th non-re-recorded release, this project was not a fitting addition to the Taylor Swift canon. As the album continues to grow with the impending Swift-directed music videos, we’ll just have to see which tracks are sleeper hits and which are snoozers. Till then, since Swift seems to be so obsessed with numbers, here’s one for “Midnights”: 3/5 stars.