Taylor Swift Reveals the Hardest Part About Being a Pop Star

27 May 2015 | Author: | No comments yet »

Taylor Swift: Being an International Pop Star Is ‘Not That Hard’.

Dan Bejar is the sort of fussy, opaque, perpetually dissatisfied art-rocker type who’d delight in the fact that it’ll probably take me two paragraphs to explain him to you to anyone’s satisfaction.”It’s not that hard, I’m telling you now it’s really not,” the 25-year-old insisted to a BBC Radio 1 interviewer. “Sometimes I really don’t think it’s that hard at all.” The Grammy Award-winning singer — who made her debut Tuesday on Forbes’ annual list of the world’s 100 Most Powerful Women — is currently on a world tour to support her blockbuster album “1989,” which has moved more than 7.5 million records worldwide. “When I was starting out I’d go on tour for three months and I was gone for three months. He hails from Vancouver and looks like the insouciant, chain-smoking, Sartre-quoting philosopher genius/doofus your beloved college girlfriend dumped you for; since the mid-’90s, he’s put out nine records under the (very cool, and somehow available) name Destroyer, a ridiculously random and combative and self-annihilating body of work that encourages you to have a Favorite and, more importantly, a Least Favorite.

It’s made out to be harder than it is,” she says. “I do have to leave the cats behind when I leave the country, which is the hardest part.” The “Bad Blood” singer kicked off her 1989 world tour earlier this month in Tokyo. I’m partial to 2006’s knotty, elegiac Destroyer’s Rubies, which is like reading Ulysses while lazily floating down a river on a blowup toy alligator; I am least partial to 2004’s Your Blues, which sounds like a drunk merry-go-round committing suicide and is super helpful if you need to clear a crowded room in 15 seconds. Swift, 25, will be performing her over-the-top show multiple times each week across four continents through December, but maintains that she’s still not over the exhausting experience of touring.

In fact, the exhaustion is her favorite part. “That’s the best part of this – when you walk off stage and you’re drenched in sweat and you’re tired and your legs hurt … it feels like you’re really working for the job,” she says. “It’s nice to feel tired after a show. Anyways, we’re talking about him today for the only reason we talk about any musician who’s not Taylor Swift anymore: He talked shit about Taylor Swift. I encourage you to read Bejar’s Pitchfork Q&A from Monday even if you don’t know him and don’t care about you-know-who; it’s an invaluable guide to what your average indie star is thinking in 2015, which is worthwhile info even if you regard “indie rock” as a meaningless, half-dead, possibly racist idea. The album’s 13 tracks switch between—and oftentimes combine—two distinct styles: chamber-music balladry and vamping, jazzed-up ‘70s rock. “It’s like a strange mashup of 20th century classical and, like, Destroyer at the Sands,” offers the 42-year-old Bejar, citing Frank Sinatra’s classic 1966 live album. “I was never sure if it would make any sense as music—and I’m still not really sure it does—but it was something I wanted to do, and it’s what’s closest to my heart right now.” The premise here is that Destroyer’s last record, 2011’s Kaputt (softer, with more trumpets) was so successful (here defined as “he played Coachella and hated it”) that he’s now actively sabotaging himself, which remains a central indie-rock ideal, and requires saying stuff like, “I really despise pop music these days, so I can’t have people walking away humming songs” and touting your new record with the likes of “I intentionally left off the two songs that everyone told me were the catchiest.” And then: DB: Not too much. But, because I have a young daughter who’s in school now, I had this sneaking suspicion that Taylor Swift might be the dominant cultural theme of her generation and that I should listen to a song by her because I had never heard one.

It was more from just hearing these hack nu-country melodies with dumb lyrics and some very advanced Pro-Tools production techniques that could dazzle certain music critics. I just generally have a more elemental take on things and I can’t hold up Taylor Swift as being either a figure of light or a figure of darkness because I feel like it brings down my poem to a level that’s too mundane. [laughs] So instead of being flabbergasted or outraged or dismissive, I really just want to pretend that those things don’t exist. But the “dumb hack” stuff has still enflamed all the as-yet-unmuted rock critics on your Twitter feed, given that we can’t get enough of any Indie Rocker vs.

Pop Star action. (Let’s not get bogged down in the Poptimism debate, which boils down to “Do critics like Beyoncé too much now” and is otherwise a mess; if somebody at a party starts angrily insisting on one side or the other, put Your Blues on the stereo and get the hell out of there.) Underground guys have been dissing overground ladies for years (Miley Cyrus used to get this a lot); it’s a dick move, but usually a charming dick move, and it’s helpful in clarifying just what the hell your favorite semi-obscure musicians think “pop music” means, and how performative their hatred of it can get. This is what I know to be true, and what I suspect she knows as well: Most indie types who make a big public show of refusing to make vapid, catchy, enjoyable pop music want you to think that they can, but nobly choose not to, when the truth is, they just can’t.

I may have neglected to mention that he’s also a member of the New Pornographers, the best power-pop band of the last 15 years, reliably dropping three of four incongruous deranged-uncle rants onto each of their albums, like Kramer busting through Jerry’s door and retreating just as brusquely. (There is a certain visual similarity.) His songs are lyrically inscrutable and unsettling by design, but if they get their claws in you, look out: The night of George W. Or take “War on the East Coast” up there, from last year’s splendid Brill Bruisers, and count how many Top 40 hits from 2014 have an earworm as insidious as Blondes / Brunettes / Paper jets.

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