"Call It What You Want", the fourth preview of Taylor Swift's upcoming sixth studio album reputation (Nov. 10), retreats from the sonic and visual bombast of "...Ready for It?". The midtempo electropop track is pleasant and melodic, but it is not strong enough to help Swift recreate her inescapable conquest of the pop mainstream when 1989 (2014) was released. (Even the most anti-Swiftian music listeners probably came to a subconscious realization that the first five singles from the album were all successful enough to receive multi-platinum certification from the RIAA).
It nevertheless remains the most confessional and introspective offering Swift has released on this new album cycle thus far. She begins on a downbeat note ('My castle crumbled overnight'), and then threads a familiar trajectory of triumph over personal tragedy (the lyrics point towards Kim Kardashian's infamous 2015 Snapchat expose, which bankrupted her celebrity status), while briefly and obliquely addressing her own personal mistakes ('And I know I make the same mistakes every time/ Bridges burn, I never learn').
Swift is nevertheless uninterested in throwing her own pity party, and the song quickly turns into a jubilant ode to a supportive lover (which is presumably British actor Joe Alwyn, who was also the rumored subject of "Gorgeous"). The 808 drums remain subdued during the song's chorus, allowing her voice to convey all the warmth, affection and praise for the starry-eyed man "sparking up [her] darkest night": "My baby’s fly like a jet stream/ High above the whole scene/ Loves me like I’m brand new". Her defensiveness deflates throughout the song, with each reiteration of the song's title becoming less insistent and urgent.
All the drama queens, jokers, and liars melt into the background as they run away together. In an unexpectedly feminist twist, Swift clarifies that she does not need to be 'saved', and is not buying into patriarchal notions of male ownership of women: 'I want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck/ Chain round my neck/ Not because he owns me/ But ’cause he really knows me'. Swift's lyricism may not rival Sylvia Plath's poetics, but her instrospective turn towards personal growth should be widely welcomed, even by her most passionate haters.
