The radio, the internet, the world, not to mention this issue of GLAMOUR. As she launches her 1989 global tour, Jo Elvin discovers pop’s unstoppable force is also the nicest
What happened to Taylor Swift? While we have known, intellectually, for some time that she is the blonde, sweet, multi-platinum-selling country star, we can’t swear that in Britain, we always really got her, can we? In fact, for many years, you’d have sooner flashed your knickers on the bus than let anyone see her name flash up on your iPod.
Now? She is owning us all – a global phenomenon of an album, an obsession to her 25.5million Instagram followers. A Saturday Night Live sketch from a few months ago sums it up nicely, where a bunch of adults rush to their doctors suffering from a new sincere and unironic enjoyment of Taylor Swift tunes. The joke being, this is confusing and alarming for them. I think most of us can relate. Her album 1989 is one of the most ludicrously catchy collections of ‘proper’ pop songs since Gaga’s The Fame. Resistance has been futile. And not only is it now politely tolerated, but actually totally frickin’ cool to unashamedly adore Taylor Swift. Hell, even Kanye, who once famously stormed a stage because she won ‘Beyoncé’s’ VMA award, is now a fan.
“I don’t have any need or urge to write about overt sexuality. It just never occurs to me”
“We actually, I guess, could be called friends now!” laughs Taylor, her gazelle-like legs poured into black skinnies and twisting around each other in an armchair. “I honestly think I needed to continue to prove myself in my career and I think it finally got to a place where he realised he respected what I do as a musician.”
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