y’all can say whatever you want about ME! but dont even try to pretend like your soul didn’t leave your body at exactly 12:01am April 26, 2019, when you first heard Taylor sing “I promise that you’ll never find another like me” in two part harmony before the beat dropped.
Taylor releases beautiful ghosts. It gets nominated for an oscar. She walks the oscars red carpet. We get good content of #TaylorAtTheOscars. She performs beautiful ghosts at the oscars. She wins the oscar. We get the best thank you speech ever. She celebrates tf out of getting the oscar. And we celebrate tf out of it too. Like to charge. Reblog to cast.
Like so many songs in the Taylor Swift pantheon, “Cruel Summer” sprints on the knife-edge of a crush, reckless, anticipating the wreck, but compelled and consumed by capital-F “feeling.” There’s an acknowledgement that we’ve been here before (“Angels roll their eyes”), and even Swift seems exasperated, crying out in the bridge, “I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” But then the music cuts out, and from the dark comes a sound unlike anything Swift’s ever recorded — a raw, back-of-the-throat howl. It’s vintage Swift, a burst of mischief and desire, messy drama with a wink, yet it hits at fresh power, the thrill of hearing one of pop’s most underestimated chameleons daring you to wonder what she can’t do.