Reputation is a morality play for the 21st century, where Taylor Swift acts out our deepest and most public desires and fears. It depicts the world in shades of grey, where there are no absolute truths, but endless contradictions... Reputation's not just a snake – it's a snake eating its own tail.
With 1989, Taylor Swift moved beyond love songs. The album spoke to a generation of millennials living through uncertain times, looking for stability as young adults. Taylor’s songs offer no easy answers, but endless emotional generosity.
The Chainsmokers perfectly reflect your existing views about modern music. One person's fluid genre-hopping is another's cynical pandering. Listen to them, and you'll hear exactly what you want to hear.
The protagonist of this song is not a good person. She craves attention, she's overly dramatic, never admits she's wrong -- and she blames everyone else for her own temptation. But isn't that what infatuation does to all of us? Swift's playing a character, someone raised on a lifetime of fairytales about true love -- some of them maybe even sung by Taylor herself.
I want to say that Iggy Azalea embodies a borderless way of thinking about art, where you don't have to be the exact boring identity you're born into. But it's not that simple. I want to love Iggy Azalea, but she won't let me.
Pop Is a Battlefield: Taylor Swift's '...Ready for It?' Sees Her Becoming Top 40's Universal Soldier
Ultimately, "Look What You Made Me Do" and "…Ready for It?" aren't about Kanye, Katy, or Calvin. They're about Swift herself, and her lesson to us: you don't have to give a damn about your bad reputation.
For Paramore, going new wave isn't some nostalgic genre exercise. New wave was about instability: cultural, rhythmic and creative. It told stories of transition – from 70s to 80s, punk to disco, guitars to synthesisers, drums to drum machines, ripped jeans to New Romantic colour. No two iconic new wave bands sound alike... By throwing out their old musical formulas, Paramore have finally embraced the chaos that's defined their career.
The Chainsmokers are the party, the hangover and the morning epiphany. The millennial dream is simple: to be judged not by your trashy Facebook photos or your culturally insensitive 2010 tweets, but by how far you've come. If the frat-bros behind the worst debut single of the decade can grow up, can't we all?
The louder the volume, the more detached Bieber comes across as a performer. It’s not just that he rarely smiles; it’s that no one knows what to make of it. Is he having an off day? Has he lost the joy in performing, or is his James Dean pout his default expression?
‘Atlantic City’ is every bit as true as ‘Dancing in the Dark’. There’s no joy without melancholy — the two contrast, embrace each other.
In wrestling, bigger isn't always better – NXT is proof. But the same is true of the Australian wrestling scene. The inferiority complex is practically part of our national identity. But in the last few years, a true Australian wrestling identity has emerged.