I still haven’t received my Taylor Swift tickets yet; they must have got lost in the post.
This is a shame because I was really looking forward to seeing Her Swiftness in Melbourne next week.
Next time she tours, I might cancel my schedule for a month and order daily Uber pizzas to spend longer on the internet to ensure my purchase went through. I might also check my superannuation balance to make sure I have the funds to cover a family ticket without a re-mortgage.
I’m not being entirely cynical here. If I had the money, the time and the stamina, I would have joined the digital lottery to buy a Swiftie ticket because I’m fascinated by the cultural phenomenon that has swept the world.
Taylor Swift stands at the forefront of a cohort of global entertainment stars from the past century, beginning with Charlie Chaplin, Frank Sinatra, Elvis and The Beatles. They have all commanded the adoration of millions and made the same amount in fortunes. But they were men, so there were no surprises there.
There have also been plenty of female superstars before Taylor Swift, but there’s something different about her because she’s in control, and she doesn’t sell raunch.
She’s in charge of her look, her style, her marketing, and most of all — she’s in charge of her art. She writes, plays and produces her own songs, which are intelligent and written with craft, and she’s been doing it for nearly 20 years.
She’s a 21st century female colossus and a renaissance woman — she’s good at art and maths.
She stood up to bully-boy record executives who were forcing her to buy her own master recordings. She re-recorded her original music, so she now has ownership of her art. Good on her. That single act has the potential to revolutionise the music industry by sending shivers down the spines of middlemen. She sent them a warning — they may own the means of production, but they don’t own the art.
She then had a stoush with music streaming giant Spotify, accusing them of ripping off artists by paying them a tiny amount of royalties. So, she removed her entire catalogue from Spotify for three years, saying music is art, art is important and rare and valuable, and valuable things should be paid for. Yep, I agree with that. But I still have Spotify on my phone.
Of course, only someone like Taylor Swift could take their music off Spotify and still keep earning. Her music is now back on Spotify, and artists are still paid peanuts, but the big giant did get a fright, which cheered me up.
Her record label has now pulled her music from TikTok because of a licensing disagreement. When there’s big money to be made, big companies always want a bigger slice. But it won’t affect her reach or her earnings. Other people are posting cover versions to keep her music alive on the platform.
In the end, though, it all comes back to the music. She has outsold every music star since recorded music began — evidence a lot of people like her.
She does what the best artists do, which is universalise the personal — and in doing so, she’s gathered an army of millions who are prepared to stand up and defend her when her image or her music is exploited.
That’s market power. She commands the ears and bank balances of corporate leaders, politicians and sports heroes, yet she puts her money where her moral mouth is and donates millions to charities.
She’s also a musical chameleon who crosses genres from country to pop to alternative rock to indie and electronic sounds. Not many people can travel across those borders with sincerity and take an audience with them.
Do I listen to her music? Not much; I’m a 68-year-old man with a woodchopper’s beard who grew up in the 60s. Her whispery vocals and lyrics about broken hearts, summer flings and girl power don’t really speak to me. But they’re clever and original and about as honest as anything that pop music can bring.
“Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart/Now I send their babies presents.” That’s pretty sharp stuff.
If I had a ticket for her show at the MCG next Saturday, I would go because I’m interested in music and in culture and the power of art to change minds. I would stand and stroke my beard while taking notes about the strange cult of big stadium love. It would look weird, but that’s the kind of Swiftie I am.