The lovestruck theme continues on Opalite, whose breezy chords and Abba-esque harmonies unfurl like a blossoming romance; and Wi$h Li$t, where Swift extricates herself from the Hollywood pack for a life of domestic bliss.
“They want that critical smash Palme d’Or and an Oscar on their bathroom floor,” she observes. “I just want you”.
(Plus “a couple of kids” with “a best friend who I think is hot”).
But perhaps the most eye-opening tribute to Kelce is Wood – a staccato dance track, complete with a Jackson 5 guitar riff, that’s essentially an extended double entendre.
Therein, we find Swift superstitiously “knocking on wood” that their relationship will last, and knocking wood in the bedroom, in an unexpected homage to her fiancé’s “manhood”.
It’s so silly and unexpected that I laughed out loud.
The same thing goes for Actually Romantic, a fantastically sarcastic track about a fellow pop star (unnamed), who calls Swift a “boring Barbie” and writes songs about how much they hate her.
Over grungy guitars and a slapping drum beat, Taylor taunts them with a touch of reverse psychology.
“It sounded nasty but it feels like you’re flirting with me,” she trills. “All the effort you’ve put in, it’s actually romantic.”
She continues to settle scores on Father Figure – the scathing story of a backstabbing protégé, that interpolates the George Michael classic of the same name.
Fans will go wild trying to uncover the subject’s identity, but, to me, the song feels more like a morality tale about a music industry Svengali, who possesses the power to wipe out anyone who isn’t “loyal to the family”.
Full of cinematic strings and disorientating key changes, it sits alongside No Body, No Crime, Bad Blood and Vigilante S*** in Swift’s expanding catalogue of revenge anthems.
