With her PR machine churning at the highest degree, her name populating headlines across the internet and her songs blasting from every major commercial radio station internationally, the Taylor Swift epidemic – indiscriminate and decisive – has pervaded the most cynical of minds.
Taylor Swift’s name, face and music saturate our media landscape. And in a year when she has taken a sabbatical of sorts from social media and public life, that’s certainly no happy accident.
Reputation, both the noun and her new album, have been central to the Swift 2.0 narrative. A different kind of Taylor emerged from the ashes of her ‘ruined’ reputation – allegations of faux feminism, the ‘mean girl’ label and rumours about the insincerity of her good girl image making up the core of the ash.
Instead, Taylor projected an image of a fierce kind of female. One who had just won a landmark sexual assault case, walking away with a widely applauded and deeply symbolic single dollar.
She came back. She made sure we knew about it. And for all we critique her music and her intentions, we fell for it. Hook. Line. Sinker. We fixated on the new Taylor, the sarcastic Taylor. The one that packs more of a punch. The one who seems just a little bit angry.
Taylor Swift sucked up every inch of the media, swallowing every second of our airtime. And in doing so, our blinkers missed a far more important comeback of 2017.
Because somewhere in the far corners of our news cycle, but on every inch of radio play, sits the story of Kesha and her struggle to break-free from power and abuse, trauma and harassment.