Out of all of life’s biggest controversies, there is one that rises above the rest: which Taylor Swift album is best. Is it 1989? No, that’s what people say if they don’t actually listen to Taylor Swift. Perhaps emos and fans of Bon Iver would say it’s the moody Folklore. Or maybe if you asked that mate of yours with anger issues, she’d definitely say Reputation.
While my favourite Saturday night activity is often forcing my friends into debating Taylor Swift albums, I’ve often settled on the fact that I am a Folklore sun, Reputation moon and a Speak Now rising.
But it’s high time I finally face the truth. The best Taylor Swift album — nay, the best album of all time — is Speak Now.
There. I said it.
Why is Speak Now so fkn good?
Where do I even start? Is it the phenomenal songwriting? The way she perfectly captures the tension between childhood and adulthood? Her distinct storytelling ability that makes you think you’re part of a fairytale? The fact that out of all of her albums, it feels the most sonically Swift of the lot?
I’ll go for D, Eddie. All of the above.
From start to finish, Speak Now is an absolute goldmine that showcases Taylor’s songwriting prowess. One moment, you’re soaked in that familiar country-laced Swift romanticism via ‘Mine’, ‘Sparks Fly’ and ‘Speak Now’. You’re twirling your hair, kicking your feet, and basking in the giddiness of love to fill that deep, black hole in your heart (you may not have looked anyone in the eye for six months, but who needs to when you have Taylor Swift songs!).
But the next? Absolutely sobbing your heart out to ‘Back To December’, an emotionally haunting ballad about lost love. The audacity for her to put this as track three. TRACK. THREE. I cannot be crying this early, my dude. Yes, ‘Back To December’ was written by a 19-year-old, but it’s easily one of Taylor’s most mature songs yet.
It’s whiplash. But like, in the best way. Out of all of Taylor Swift’s albums, Speak Now feels like the biggest emotional rollercoaster of the lot.
But what differentiates Speak Now from all her other albums isn’t that it’ll have you reaching for a cowboy hat and ready to start your yeehaw era. Nor is it the fact that as you listen, you contemplate calling up that guy you dated in Year 10 (because what if there’s still something there?). Swift’s third album has a wild ability to jump from giddy first love vibes to pumping out surprisingly angry tunes about douchebags who have wronged us.
‘Mean’ proves that not all break-up songs need to be ridiculously complex — sometimes they can be bouncy country-pop melodies with hard-hitting lyrics.
‘The Story of Us’ pushed the boundary of what country music could be (and quite frankly, it did NOT have to go that hard).
‘Haunted’ proved Swift didn’t belong in one box, showing powerful vocal skills and how simple key changes can convey so much anger and anguish.
And as for ‘Better Than Revenge’? Well, don’t fuck with Taylor Swift.
Of course, Speak Now demonstrates Swift’s wild ability to eloquently articulate her own heartbreak. The album is largely so iconic now thanks to its public sledging of John Mayer in ‘Dear John’. In the song, Swift absolutely obliterated the musician (who dated her when she was 19 and he was 32) with the words, “Don’t you think I was too young?” Through this, she not only calls Mayer out — she also melancholically captures how cooked it is to be in a relationship with an older man.
In Speak Now, there’s an unrivalled timelessness. Yes, it was released over a decade ago, but her narrative songwriting has an uncanny ability to teleport you into the pages of any book, and whether you’re 16 or 32, you’ll find it equally as magical.
Speak Now is the magnum opus that encapsulates Taylor Swift’s artistry. It demonstrates her captivating storytelling and songwriting, perfectly blends genre expectations, and is technically brilliant.
And for that, I’d say that Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) might be the most important re-recording we’ve had so far — even if it’s the least spoken about.
Alright, 1980 stans — time to fight.
Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) will be released on Saturday, July 8 (Australian time). Eat it, Scooter Braun.
