I won't be streaming Taylor's Version

What do we really owe the people who make our favourite music?

Taylor Swift’s seminal album 1989 was just rereleased as part of the singer’s Taylor’s Version series. Swift is re-recording the six albums she released on Big Machine Records (with bonus tracks from the vault!!!) due to licensing related concerns. The label, which was owned by record executive Scott Borchetta while Swift worked there — recently sold to agent and business mogul Scooter Braun.

Braun famously worked with and supported Kanye West on some of Kanye’s Taylor Swift-related bullshit. You can click here to read more about that, but suffice to say, Swift doesn’t like Braun a whole lot.

She obviously doesn’t want him making money off her hits like “Shake it Off” and “You Belong With Me”, which generate millions of streams and — subsequently — at least dozens of dollars in revenue a year. I wouldn’t either if I was in her shoes. She’s dropping these re-recordings so people can choose where their streaming money goes. Swift will see a large portion of the proceeds from these new versions, giving her fans the option to subvert Big Machine and support her directly. The re-releases also conveniently coincide with the Eras Tour, allowing Swift to stay in a perpetual album release cycle while capitalizing off the nostalgia for her back-catalog.

I’m not hating on her. It’s a brilliant move. Her tour, which is centered around exploring different “eras” in her career, is a historic pop-culture event. It’s shattered sales records and could be a paradigm shift in the way live music is marketed on a stadium/arena level. I’m not sure what kind of financial impact the re-recordings made on Swift’s bank account, but she recently became the first musician to achieve billionaire status without a business venture side hustle. The albums are obviously getting played.

Speaking of the albums, 1989 is one of my favourite pop records ever. It didn’t just make a huge impact on my listening habits, it entirely changed the way I think and write about pop music. I know the idea of “poptimism” in critical circles has been valid for a long time. 1989, along with a few choice rap records, sold that vision to me back in 2014.

That album was also the jumping off point for my discovery of Swift’s back-catalog, and I’ve kept up with what she’s done since. I consider myself a fan of her music. But when I revisit 1989, I won’t be streaming Taylor’s Version. Here’s why:

It’s worse than the original.

Swifties, her veracious fans, don’t mind overlooking that fact to support the cause. I’m not a Swifty. I think there’s a key distinction — specifically when it comes to high profile pop music — between being a fan of an artist and being simply a fan of their art. Taylor Swift has a loyal base of supporters who are invested in her personal brand. Their interest goes beyond her music. Her fashion, interviews and personal life are highly relevant parts of the experience they engage with. They’re invested as much in Taylor Swift the person — or Taylor Swift, the idea — as Taylor Swift the musician.

These fans make it an imperative to stream Taylor’s re-recordings. Their relationship with her feels personal, and they want to support their favourite artist. Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun really did do Swift dirty, so streaming the old versions of her songs probably feels spiritually akin to hooking up with a friend’s ex. I’ve even seen people lamenting online about the moral dilemma of not replacing her songs on a Spotify playlist when they like the old version more.

THIS JUST ISN;T AS GOOD

This level of parasocial involvement has always confused me, especially with artists who, by necessity of size, are completely inaccessible to the public. One the most magnetic things about DIY music for me is the idea that there should be no rockstars.

Let’s be real about that, though. Meat-riding in the hardcore scene has always existed. It may in fact be at an all-time high right now. Still, it’s more an unfortunate byproduct of human nature than a built-in feature. There are no meet and greets. There’s no paparazzi. Autographs aren’t really a thing. You can hear many old heads tell stories of their jaws hitting the floor when they were asked, in the year two-thousand-and-something, to take a selfie for the first time by a bright eyed youngster.

This general lack of celebrity worship feels natural. “Separate the art from the artist” isn’t something I say to excuse myself when listening to cancelled bands. It’s just a progression of how I interact with music. Of course I’ve developed parasocial relationships with my favourite creators, but by and large, an album is an album and a person is a person, and if a person makes a good album, I enjoy the music and don’t really care too much about the person.

I’m not saying this like it means I’m better than anyone. I’m just stating a fact about how I interact with things and how that’s led me to engage with music. If you wanna fall asleep to 1989 — Taylor’s Version at night so that every cent of your streaming subscription goes right to her pocket, be my guest. Acting like there’s some sort of moral imperative to stream the artist’s version seems a little ridiculous, though.

THIS JUST ISN’T CUTTING IT BRO.

I would love to have dinner or sit in a studio session with Taylor Swift. She’s a creative genius in both music and marketing. Hearing and seeing her ideas in action would be a privilege. Still, I don’t owe her my streaming money just because she made something I like. The original version of 1989 is — in my eyes — a perfect album, right down to the tones and backing vocal arrangements. The re-recorded version doesn’t nail those elements for me, so I’m not gonna listen to it.

I don’t care who gets the pittance of Spotify money my streams produce when I listen to this record. I think Swift’s actions are completely valid based on how she was treated by Braun, but I’m not losing sleep over her problems either. Maybe my position would be more nuanced if we were talking about a DIY band getting fucked over by No Sleep Records, but Taylor Swift is a billionaire whose concert tickets are going for thousands of dollars on the resale market.

While we’re at it, I actually think Taylor Swift is directly complicit in building a new, unsustainable and unaffordable business model that pushes live music further and further out of reach for the average person. That’s mostly an essay for another time, but to anyone making this a moral issue, you’re not exactly supporting an angel either.

Here’s the bottom line: Taylor Swift’s personal business is not mine. I’m going to stream the version of 1989 that I consider essential listening — the one that I think is captured without flaw, in a way that necessitates it as part of a broader conversation about the critical validity of pop music. I’m not gonna care which rich person makes money off my choice one bit. Feel free to make your own decision.