Here's What Milk Crate's 'Swifties' Thought of Every Track on Speak Now (Taylor's Version)
Last Friday, July 7th, pop sensation Taylor Swift released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). Including re-recorded songs from the original tracklist and six new additions “From The Vault,” Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) is another step towards Swift owning her entire catalog. Of course, the Swifties here at Milk Crate had to give their own two cents on how this version compares to the record they grew up with.
Mine (Taylor’s Version)
Maura Cowan
In 2010, like a bolt from the blue, a song entered the world imbued with such magic that it turned a younger me into a hopeless romantic. Granted, it may have done so by playing to my unfailing pragmatic streak… but really, the moment I heard those “oh-oh-ohhh”s, I was done for anyway. I was not a child who crushed with reckless abandon. In fact, I may have perhaps been uniquely protective of my heart for an eight year old—a flight risk with a fear of falling, the careful daughter of a great but careless man. So this one definitely spoke to me. Swift’s depictions of love in “Mine” did not suddenly fill me with desire for the joys of third grade romance, but it undeniably set the bar for the love I hoped to find one day. I spent a decade searching for someone to make me feel like this song did: light, giggly, and crucially, safe at last to place my heart in somebody else’s hands and trust them not to drop it. It’s still one of my absolute favorite love songs, and Swift sounds absolutely ebullient on the re-recording—like even at 32, she’s still thrilled and excited to find that all-too-rare feeling.
Sparks Fly (Taylor’s Version)
Karenna Umscheid
The opening notes to “Sparks Fly” bring me an indescribable amount of joy, an instant serotonin boost, a shot of something crackling and spicy and hot! Taylor’s passion and urgency is palpable in every lyric, particularly when she sings “Drop everything now / Meet me in the pouring rain / Kiss me on the sidewalk / Take away the pain.” It’s resonant of infatuation and fresh attraction, a precursor to the slightly raunchier vault track “I Can See You.” The joyfully abrasive instrumentation paired with Swift’s playful lyricism make this track an absolute country/pop/rock classic, a cornerstone of the Speak Now sound.
Back To December (Taylor’s Version)
Farah Rincon
After overcoming my personal wave of nostalgia from the first few listens of “Back to December (Taylor’s Version),” I was finally able to properly notice the slight yet impactful differences between the Taylor I grew up with and the one we’ve learned to love now. While carefully hearing the vocals on one of my favorite tracks of the album, it came to me that “Back to December (Taylor’s Version)” comes across as a letter written from a more loving, reminiscent, and mature point of view than the song’s original version. While this fresher version tells us a story from the perspective of someone who’s finally healed, the original version depicts the voice of someone whose wounds are still fresh with emotions and pain; someone who is not per se childish but still a young girl who has yet to establish her identity within herself as well as her persona in the music world. While my personal preference remains with its original version due to nostalgic reasons, Taylor provides us with a new way of listening to this song by giving us smoother, quieter, and calmer vocals to follow along with.
Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)
Izzy Desmarais
Speak Now’s initial release back in 2010 is one of my earliest music memories. I remember going to F.Y.E. at the Dartmouth Mall either on or around release day to buy the CD and proceeded to listen to the record everyday in the car until my mother couldn’t take it anymore—she told me she was hearing the songs in her sleep. Thirteen years later, listening to Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) as a twenty-year-old college student driving around running errands felt a little surreal. As a seven-year-old, my favorite track was without a doubt “Speak Now.” I can still clearly see the elaborate photoshoot that accompanied the lyrics in the little CD booklet: a couple at the altar, the bride is shouting at the groom, the church pews are packed, and Swift is standing in the aisle wearing a pink dress, her hand up in meek objection. “Speak Now” is fun and silly songwriting at its finest, as Swift imagines herself in such a ridiculous scenario in order to craft this hyperbolic declaration of love. The re-recording is just as playful and indulgent as the original, making it impossible to not giggle and kick your feet in the air as you listen. 10/10, there’s a good reason why this is the title track—it perfectly captures the warmth that underscores any coming of age moment.
Dear John (Taylor’s Version)
Everly Orfanedes
When Speak Now was originally released in 2010, I was seven-years-old, and had no true concept of what heartbreak could feel like. Back then, “Dear John” never stood out to me on the record. Aside from Swift’s angelic, tear jerking belts that dominate this emotional beating of a song, the lyrics flew past my underdeveloped frontal lobe, and as the CD would switch to the next song, I wouldn’t flinch. Now, at nineteen-years-old, this is my favorite Taylor Swift song, and possibly my favorite song of all time. I don’t believe I have experienced a situation identical to the one Swift portrays in this song, but I now can imagine just what that pain would feel like, and it would feel like this song. “Dear John (Taylor’s Version)” does almost perfect justice to the production of the original recording. Of course, with any re-recording of a song, crazy fans (including myself) are going to notice miniscule changes or mishaps, but honestly, who cares, these are great songs and they are almost identical to the original, and everyone complaining loudly on the Internet should chill out. The biggest change to the song is one I believe was inevitable: Swift’s vocals. Once again, her vocals are strong and tear jerking, but there was a pain and urgency to her voice thirteen years ago that was not recreated in “Dear John (Taylor’s Version),” This is something that we as fans must accept and respect, because this change shows Swift has embraced her healing from the original situation portrayed in the song, and wants to show her fans she has overcome the pain, while still balancing being as true to the song as possible with expressing where she is now. “Dear John,” amongst many others of her songs, is Swift’s story. She can communicate them however she wants, and thankfully for us, she knows how to do it really, really well.
Mean (Taylor’s Version)
Maura Cowan
I’m going to paraphrase a particularly salient piece of commentary from pop critic Todd Nathanson: listening to this song with the context of the following thirteen years of Taylor Swift’s career, the whole track can read as crushingly naive. “Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,” she twangs, youthful and bouncy and betraying a worldview that would time and again be proven faulty. Even as an unshakeable juggernaut of the entertainment world, Swift has never been, and will never be, too big to hit. I say this with an affectionate chastisement—every move she has made and every word she has written over the past decade has revealed more and more of a deep-seated (and impossible) desire to be unimpeachable, adored uncritically by all. Perhaps that is why, out of all of the re-recorded tracks on Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), “Mean (Taylor’s Version)” feels the most like Swift is revisiting something that she created as a much younger person. There is an awkwardness to her delivery, with a hint of that affected country drawl cloaked in 20/20 hindsight. Her vocals are hollow, not quite supported by mysteriously sparse backing instrumentals. It sounds almost as though she understands the foolishness of her original sentiment, but is still too self-conscious to fully embrace it. It’s a shame, really, because “Mean” is one of the most charming installments in the original Speak Now tracklist, earnest and good-humored and bright. There is a missed opportunity here for Swift to laugh it off, ham it up, enjoy a visit to the past. Chin up, Taylor. They can hit you all you want, but you’re far too big to crumble now.
The Story of Us (Taylor’s Version)
Karenna Umscheid
The summer after I graduated from high school, I listened to a playlist a friend had made about leaving our hometowns and moving on. I blasted “The Story of Us” as loud as possible, and resonated with the lyrics “This is looking like a contest / Of who can act like they care less / But I liked it better when you were on my side,” suddenly thinking about my best friend from tenth grade, who I had lost touch with despite spending countless hours ranting on Snapchat late at night, feeling like we were connected telepathically somehow, a friend that understood my every insane, unhinged, immature emotion. I texted her, asking to get boba, and it was like nothing had changed, like there had been no distance at all. I laid my armor down, and everything fell back into place. I’m lucky the story of us ended up no longer a tragedy, but a triumph of friendship and love! “The Story of Us” is a trademark Speak Now track—beautiful, raw, honest, vulnerable, all with a country/pop/rock beat, an unforgettable earworm that always reminds me of forgiveness, new beginnings, and the best of friends.
Never Grow Up (Taylor’s Version)
Julia Norkus
I’m going to be so candid—in the gutted, scathing way that has slowly come to define everything I do for this publication—and say that I almost puked and cried and foamed at the mouth when I listened to this song again on Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). This was my mom’s song for me, the one she always felt described our relationship and how she viewed me when I was growing up (going against every urging from the lyric, “Just stay this little”). ANYWAYS! I’ll be twenty-one soon, I’ll even be graduating college in May 2024 and to be completely honest, I’m mortified. The original release of Speak Now came out when I was seven years old and I remember the deluxe edition of the CD that my mom bought from Target for us to listen to in the car. Taylor’s red dress on the cover, the mark of the deluxe copy as opposed to her purple dress on the original album—I remember it all so vividly, especially buying and subsequently owning the CD. So, as one might imagine, listening to the song that my mom used to sing to me in her blue Dodge minivan while riding around with her as she ran errands has pretty much made me sick to my f*cking stomach. Something about being “grown up” and listening to this song is probably just as heartbreaking as Miss Taylor felt rerecording it, now in her 30s. Being faced with the reality of growing up has always been hard, except when it wasn’t—when everything unknown was exciting and being a kid was all about the thrill of being able to do anything and everything as an adult. Except now, I don’t really know what’s happening and I’m scared all the time of what the future holds. Now I sit here, in my childhood bedroom, listening to the song that my mother decided was for me and I sob quietly to myself, “I’d give all I have, honey / If you could stay like that.” Me too, girl. Me too.
Enchanted (Taylor’s Version)
Isa Luzarraga
A little anecdote to introduce my obsession with “Enchanted.” I was a big fan of The Selection series by Kiera Cass in middle school. It was advertised as The Bachelor meets The Hunger Games, but all you need to know is that in the book’s dystopian world, a woman from each section of the country is selected to participate in this competition to marry the crown prince. This was at the height of BookTube, so of course, someone made a faux movie trailer, and the background music was? You guessed it, “Enchanted.” Cue tween Isa strutting around her house in a dress. More than any of her albums, Swift’s Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) adeptly applies fantastical, fairytale-like imagery throughout the album. “Enchanted” is the crown jewel. It feels like you should be in a ballgown, gazing down from a parapet at subjects when this is playing. I would argue that “Enchanted” was one of the original “main character” songs.
Better Than Revenge (Taylor’s Version)
Izzy Desmarais
Yes, I am absolutely going to talk about the lyric change. How can I not? I remember having the opportunity to sing a solo at theater camp one summer (I don’t remember going through with said opportunity, so I probably chickened out) and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to sing “The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry or “Better Than Revenge” by Taylor Swift. My parents vetoed both options because it wouldn’t be appropriate for a seven-year-old to sing either of those songs. I couldn’t understand why back then, but hey, hindsight is 20/20! Of course, what made the latter song inappropriate was a line in its original chorus, “She’s better known for the things that she does / On the mattress.” It’s blatant slut shaming, but I didn’t know that at the time! I think this causes me to look at this song through a nostalgic and slightly more forgiving lens. Swift wrote the song when she was 18, fueled by the unabashed pettiness that can be a side effect of growing up. This, paired with some internalized misogyny, created the lyric. I also think Swift, now 32, being able to recognize this mistake she made allows me to cut her a little more slack. To prove how much she has grown and reflected, she changed the line in “Better Than Revenge (Taylor’s Version).” Using an easy and trite metaphor—“He was a moth to the flame / Now she’s holding the matches”— not only is this rendition different from what I listened to as a kid (bad), but it feels very clunky rhythmically (also bad). Otherwise, this re-recording is…fine, I guess. 6/10, girls deserve a little misogyny, as a treat!
Innocent (Taylor’s Version)
Bianca Cormier
Sure, we can process grief, reframe and sympathize, but that will not make Kanye any less Kanye. “Innocent” is a piece that illuminates the freeing power of forgiveness. Swift kept much restraint in the time following the embarrassment that was West interrupting her rightful VMA win, this song even took the most time to write on the album. A humbling attempt to teach a grown man how to act (yet again), the ballad’s simple structure paired with its powerful execution is still a lesson to be learned. The re-recording, distanced by 13 years and a matured sound and mind, holds the reminder that “today is never too late to be brand new,” except if you are Kanye. Though I favor the vengeful confidence of reputation, I dedicate this one to those I have forgiven, but will never forget.
Haunted (Taylor’s Version)
Maura Cowan
“Haunted” has always been, to me, the great unsung star of Speak Now. The sweeping, dramatic sound led by pleading violins, the unbridled fear and anger in Swift’s voice—it all works so well for me. The first time I listened to this album was in the car with my codependent, sibling-like childhood best friend in the midst of one of our frequent earth-shattering arguments. At eight years old, fighting desperately to preserve my first and closest relationship that was destined for failure, “Haunted” sounded like a battle cry. If the album were a story, a journey marked by young Swift’s visions of fairytale heroism, this is the darkest hour when all seems irrevocably lost. Two songs later, she would triumph (and my best friend and I would reach for each other’s hands, united once again), but in the moment, the emotion was absolutely crushing. The production on this re-recording is a showstopper to me. It’s crisp, it’s theatrical, and Swift’s vocals shine through, proving that she is capable of delivering these updated recordings with just as much power as she originally created them.
Last Kiss (Taylor’s Version)
Maura Cowan
In the letter Swift wrote in the gatefold of the Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) vinyl, she reflected that she believes “Last Kiss” to be the saddest song she’s ever written, and I think there is a sound argument to be made for that claim. Despite my singular underlying appraisal of this album as epitomizing Swift’s tendency towards a simplified storybook worldview, this song stands out with a striking maturity. This is perhaps exemplified by the fact that I have only ever grown fonder of it over time—when I was a child, its understated story made it a frequent skip for me, who preferred the high-stakes fairytale narratives of “Haunted” and “Long Live.” That was years before I discovered that goodbyes are often the most devastating when they linger in this hollow, mundane nothingness. When you never expected the ending to come until it has already washed over you, like a wave pushing you sputtering back towards shore. It’s a song for “right person, wrong time,” for faltering connections in the midst of long distance—for complicated, quiet, adult kinds of heartbreak. Swift’s reinterpretation of “Last Kiss” offers some of her best vocal delivery on the album as a whole, with sheer power and clarity that demonstrates just how much she, too, has matured since the first release of Speak Now.
Long Live (Taylor’s Version)
Karenna Umscheid
“Long Live” is my absolute favorite album ending track, it’s a finale that invites all the best beginnings to follow. It fills me with hope for the future, so much happiness and triumphs to look forward to, while reflecting on everything we’ve done thus far. It brings me back to high school graduation, leaving my suburban town and graduating class of only ninety-two, most of which I had known since middle school, all of us onto bigger and better things, ready to move on, and also ready to slowly forget each other. We cling onto remembrance in everything we do, in our relationships, our friendships, our work, our lives. Swift’s sweet ode to closing one chapter and starting another is the best closer the original album could have, and the lyric “Bring on all the pretenders / I’m not afraid” is a perfect sigil in her discography. The one lyric is fearless, loving, brave, and absolutely timeless.
Ours (Taylor’s Version)
Izzy Desmarais
I didn’t own the deluxe edition of Speak Now, so I first listened to “Ours” via its music video On Demand one night before bed. It’s funny to think about the video’s storyline now—Swift is working a boring, nine-to-five desk job and all she can think about is how she can’t wait to see her boyfriend again. The ending of the video is actually very sweet—Swift is reunited with said boyfriend at the airport, picking him up after a long deployment—but it still makes me laugh watching a millionaire cosplay as a regular cog in the capitalist machine. Irony aside, the song itself is so stinking cute. In the extensive catalog that is Taylor Swift bridges, I think this one is severely underrated: “‘Cause I love the gap between your teeth / And I love the riddles that you speak / And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos / Will be ignored, ‘cause my heart is yours.” Is it poetry? No, not even close, but it's sung with such genuine affection that I’m left weak in the knees. Even now, thirteen years later, you can hear Swift smiling through each verse. 10/10, yet another perfect re-recording that renders the original master useless!
Superman (Taylor’s Version)
Everly Orfanedes
I always giggle a little when I hear Taylor Swift’s re-recordings of the more “youthful” songs on her older albums. “Superman” is a song of hers I like to think of as a member of her “fairytale” catalog. Songs such as “Today Was A Fairytale” off Fearless and “Starlight” off Red are good examples of what I’m talking about. You know, songs about guys that could never exist. Sorry, that was harsh, or maybe not. Above any of that, “Superman” is super cute. “Superman (Taylor’s Version)” is a perfect example of Swift’s ability to create re-recordings that do perfect justice for the originals. I could barely tell the difference, and I’m a self proclaimed music critic! I like to imagine Swift laughing in the studio at the naivety in her older lyrics, but there is something so special about revisiting these kinds of songs. Songs like these, “fairytale” songs, leave a somber feeling for those who have grown up and have experienced heartbreaks that can make one lose belief in the feeling of being lovestruck. Sometimes a sappy love song is essential for pulling yourself out of a bad breakup, or simply imagining someday, there may be a superman coming home to you.
Electric Touch (ft. Fall Out Boy) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Izzy Desmarais
Why doesn’t it just say “(ft. Patrick Stump)”? Or perhaps, “(ft. Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy),” like the way it’s stylized in “The Last Time (ft. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol) (Taylor’s Version)?” I’m suggesting this because when I heard there was a Fall Out Boy feature on Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), I was expecting something with a little bit of an alternative-rock influence. With Fall Out Boy having an Eras Tour of their own, performing deep cuts from pre-hiatus days as their “Magic 8 Ball” song, I thought maybe that sound would seep into this collaboration. The softer, more pop driven track that graced my 2010 Honda Civic’s speakers proved that I am delusional, this was never meant to be an emo anthem, and the reason for Stump’s feature is solely because he is an incredible singer. His performance provides another perspective in this hesitant love song, which only emphasizes the themes of vulnerability and young romance present throughout this era of Swift’s songwriting. Both Swift and Stump’s verses express insecurity that makes them reluctant to love—“I’ve got my money on this goin’ badly / Got a history of stories ending sadly” and “I’ve been left in the rain lost and pining / I’m tryin’ hard not to look like I’m trying.” Yet, there’s still a twinge of hope. Between Stump asserting that it takes “just one time” to “get it right” and Swift telling herself “maybe the stars align” for them tonight, “Electric Touch” perfectly expresses the wavering confidence of young adulthood—a feeling that is deeply rooted in this record. 8/10, I’m still disappointed that this doesn’t sound like something off Infinity On High, but it’s definitely one of the better tracks From The Vault.
When Emma Falls In Love (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Isa Luzarraga
When I was reading up about the lore behind this track, I found out that Emma Stone dated Kieran Culkin, and that realization was just too much for me for some reason. I relate to this song because, like Taylor, I also sometimes wish I was Emma Stone. Something about her releasing a song that’s not a firsthand account of her relationships or a folklore/evermore character plot line—though I will always love all of the above—sets this song apart from the rest of her discography. There is something so wonderful yet bittersweet about watching one of your close friends fall in love. In “When Emma Falls in Love,” Swift perfectly represents the warring emotions: happiness that your friend is experiencing the rollercoaster moments of love while facing the sharp internal questions of if you will ever find something as pure. This sort of internal reflection is deftly embodied throughout the track, “She won't lose herself in love the way that I did / 'Cause she'll call you out, she'll put you in your place / When Emma falls in love, I'm learning.”
I Can See You (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Isa Luzarraga
So, not to brag… but I did in fact get to see this music video premiere live at the first night of the Eras Tour in Kansas City. I did see Jacob from Twilight do a backflip on stage and talk about how much he respects Taylor. Just wanted to give some context for my latest hyperfixation of this track. Listening to “I Can See You” for the first time was delightfully confusing for me as a Swiftie. For one, the sharp percussion and sultry lyrics throughout this song feel more like a Midnights/reputation-era track than a Speak Now one. Yet, “I Can See You” has an indelible maturity to it, as Swift once again revels in her precision and plotting, “They keep watchful eyes on us / So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet / You won't believe half the things I see inside my head / Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet.” This is “illicit affairs” without the soul-crushing pathos, combined with the romantic mischief that Swift has always been known for.
Castles Crumbling (ft. Hayley Williams) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Karenna Umscheid
Swift’s solemn new “From The Vault” track depicts a heartbreaking fall from grace, not at all unlike that of Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones or Kendall Roy from Succession. Swift cracks open her exterior and reveals heartbreak not from a singular love but from the crushing pain that comes from being hated and villainized. Like a saddened, rather than angry answer that some tracks from reputation serve as, “Castles Crumbling” has Swift lost, wondering how it all could have gone so wrong. “Castles Crumbling” is like the antithesis to “Long Live,” as Swift, as well as Williams, watch a once triumphant, beautiful reign end, in mess and regret. “Castles Crumbling” is a solemn vision of how heartbreaking it is to be the anti-hero, reminding me of everything I have lost in my own mistakes and immaturity and pain. At her lowest, Swift sings “I would just let you down / I would just let you down,” heavy weight of introspection and regret sink a once beautiful, powerful kingdom plummet to the bottom of the ocean, the sharp knife of a youthful meteoric rise to the top.
Foolish One (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Bianca Cormier
This track is a seamless wrap up to the Speak Now saga of early adulthood love and naivety. It’s soft, dreamy, acoustic loop “keeps me waiting” for more, falling short just as last summer’s situationship did. The song’s structure mirrors your daydreams of a future with someone who can’t care less about you. As you fall in love with an idea, receiving “just enough attention to keep [your] hopes alive,” the chorus curb stomps your antics. That is until the cycle repeats itself again. Taylor’s delusions are some that I know all too well. As my head lightly bobs to the song's rhythm, only now do I accept “the voice of reason in my head,” and thank Taylor Swift for reminding me that “when all is said and done, he just wasn’t the one.”
Timeless (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault)
Bianca Cormier
Swift’s references to the “when will my lover return from war” trope is not used so sparingly over the course of her musical career. Here, we enter an antique shop where time stands still as the rush of past love affairs floods the scene. It's a sweet love song, if you can look past materialism and allow the serenity of these mementos to take over. It's even more touching if, like me, The Notebook is your guilty pleasure movie. I am shamelessly waiting for my Notebook love affair–daily letters, dying hand in hand–and this song serves as a reminder that I may never get that. A reflection of how it could’ve been with–insert any of your past loves–the song accepts life's changes while Swift indulges in a trip down memory lane. The vault track is a hopeful end to the album, its acoustic sound fits just right. Just as these objects do, 25 cent photos, a book covered in cobwebs, Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), memorializes the love of Swift’s past in music that will stand just as “Timeless.”