My 20 Favorite Movies of the Decade: 2010-2019

Just as with my favorite songs blog, my favorite movies list grew from the entry I did a decade ago. I couldn't abide sticking with just 10 this time around, and unlike with my music opinions, I will vouch for the quality of every choice on this list. These are all great films, and you should see them. To make that easier to do, I've noted where they are streaming with subscription, if available.

I forced myself to follow strict criteria when putting this list together. The first rule was that I've seen the movie at least twice in order to include it on the list. Thus, there is a lengthy honorable mentions list full of films that I've only seen once, either because they're fairly new or I just haven't gotten around to re-watching them.

The second rule is that the film had to be released in the 2010s, which eliminated a couple of movies that were released late in 2009, even though I didn't see them until 2010: 500 Days of Summer and Inglorious Basterds, the latter of which would've easily been in my top five.

This is the same reason for the lack of entries from 2019; I either haven't seen the movie yet (Parasite, 1917), or I haven't had the chance to see it again (The Irishman, Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood).

First, the Honorable Mentions:
Easy A (2010), Booksmart (2019), 50/50 (2011), The Raid: Redemption (2011), Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019), Manchester by the Sea (2016), The Irishman (2019), Mission: Impossible- Fallout (2018), Roma (2018), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Rogue One (2016), Logan (2017), Black Panther (2018), Baby Driver (2017), Before Midnight (2013), Us (2019), 12 Years a Slave (2013), Sinister (2012), It Follows (2014), Midsommar (2019), It: Chapter One (2017), Let Me In (2010), The LEGO Movie (2014), Her (2013), Looper (2012), Winter's Bone (2010), Call Me By Your Name (2017), The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017), The Edge of Seventeen (2016), The Town (2010), Gone Girl (2014), The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), The Fault in Our Stars (2014).

20. The Spectacular Now (2013) Netflix

The best complement I can play this delightful little teen romance is that it has Say Anything in its DNA. It also showed that Miles Teller and Shailene Woodley are bona fide movie stars. The easy chemistry they share while passing a flask of whiskey over the top of a car is worth the watch by itself. There's great stuff here about the legacy and character traits our parents saddle us with and the need to be loved.

19. The Cabin in the Woods (2012)
Horror is my favorite genre, but to move off the Honorable Mentions and onto the main list, a horror film has to transcend its genre. This clever satire does that in spades. Meta horror has been around since at least Scream, but Cabin takes it to a new level by getting us to examine what primal forces really drive us (horror movie fans, anyway) to watch people be terrified and slaughtered ad nauseam. It features a pre-Thor Chris Hemsworth, a Sigourney Weaver cameo, and is funny as hell.

18. The Big Short (2015)
This movie's kind of a miracle. There's no way to make an incredibly complex financial crisis caused largely by the housing market entertaining, right? Well, Adam McKay and friends did. No moment better encapsulates the reckless optimism of the time just before the recession like the Florida stripper revealing to an incredulous Steve Carell that she owns "five houses...and a condo."

17.Goon (2011) Netflix
The sport of hockey has produced some great flicks, but this one is my favorite. Yeah, even over Slapshot (which it certainly owes a debt to). Sean William Scott is alternately lovable and terrifying as the titular goon. You don't have to love hockey to appreciate the film; it's a great underdog tale about achieving one's dream, only to realize that the dream has changed from what it begun as. It also contains one of the best sports movie lines ever: "Two rules, man: Stay away from my fuckin' percocets, and do you have any fucking percocets, man?"

16. The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)
I already wrote about this (and nine other essential teen movies).

15. Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)
Ok, categorizing this as a "great" movie might be a bit of a stretch, but how about "best movie in proportion to awful title"? This flick is unabashedly dumb but also has its heart in the right place. It has a surprising lot to say about maturity and regret. Oh, and it's freaking hilarious and the soundtrack full of 80s cheese unashamedly rocks.

14.Creed (2015)
I doubt many people were pining for more Rocky movies, but director Ryan Coogler (Black Panther) found a way to make a fresh, fun story out of this franchise and gave Sly Stallone a meaty comeback role to boot. Michael B. Jordan is great as Adonis, but Coogler's vision is the real star; this film definitely transcends "sports movie." It's all the good parts of the series projected through a new lens.

13. Deadpool (2016)
The Marvel Comics Universe dominated the 2010s, which is why Deadpool was such a breath of fresh air. Yeah, it's still a superhero movie, but it's much like Cabin in the Woods in that it's self-aware of the genre and sends itself up. The entertainment industry tried to make Ryan Reynolds a thing for over a decade; it's deliciously ironic that he's finally made it by disfiguring his handsome mug and then slapping a mask on it. This is probably the funniest movie of the decade.

12. Dunkirk (2017)
I called this film "fantastic" when I first saw it, but it probably wouldn't have made the list if I hadn't gone back and watched it again a week ago. The tension is incredible, right from the harrowing opening scene. Hans Zimmer's score ratchets it up throughout the film, along with the ticking clock effect that dovetails with the film's warped chronology, which is a lot easier to follow the second time around. I was also able to better distinguish between the largely similar-looking pasty British boys, which is arguably the film's only flaw. I love that you never actually see any of the Nazis; they're just this terrifying, omniscient, malevolent force.

11. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
There's a plot somewhere in here, but it doesn't matter. The movie is basically one massive chase scene. They race across the terrain away from the bad guy to someplace that doesn't really matter. Then they go back. It's all the cool shit that happens along the way that makes this a modern classic. Charlize Theron's brilliance makes up for...whatever the hell Tom Hardy's doing here. Some of the most jaw-dropping, realistic stunts ever put on celluloid.

10. Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2 (2017) Disney +
The MCU is indeed a wondrous creation. The fact that all these disparate films culminated in the satisfying triumph that is Avengers: Endgame is truly one of most remarkable achievements in filmmaking history. And yet...Martin Scorsese had a point when he criticized the films as having "no stakes." If you were surprised by Tony Stark dying or Cap giving up his shield, then you weren't paying attention to entertainment news: Both of the actors' contracts were due to expire.  

GG2, to me, is the one MCU film with stakes, and thus, emotional resonance. The universal themes of family and what qualifies as one sets it apart from its comic book brethren. The climax starts with Quill's battle with the father who abandoned him, kicks up a notch with Rocket preventing Gamorra from going back for Quill ("Sorry, I can only lose one friend today"), and crescendos with Sean Gunn's triumphant, teary celebration as the other ships appear for the "Ravager funeral" (set to a tear-jerking Cat Stevens tune). I've liked a lot of the MCU movies. This is the only one that gives me the feels.

9. Hereditary (2018) Amazon Prime
This is both a traditional horror film and a work of art. Director Ari Aster borrows the best stuff from other horror classics (most notably Rosemary's Baby) to create a classic of his own. His use of sound, especially, sets him apart as an auteur. It's scary and gory, but it's also a parable about a family fracturing under the weight of recent tragedy and its own sordid history. Hereditary announced Aster as a major talent; Midsommar confirmed his genius. I can't wait to see what he does next.

8. Warrior (2011) Free w/ ads on Vudu
Every time I recommend this movie, I cringe when someone asks what it's about. "It's about these two brothers who both turn into mixed martial arts fighters..." The person usually tunes me out right about then. I get it! Most people don't like M.M.A. Here's the thing: I don't like M.M.A.! I don't watch or follow it at all. But this movie is outstanding and transcends the genre, even better than Creed and Goon do. It's layered and believable, features a vintage Nick Nolte, and it's easily Tom Hardy's best acting performance. The ending, which feels totally inevitable yet completely earned, had me choked up and wishing I had a brother.

7. Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) Disney +
It's easy to dismiss this as derivative of the original movie, as lots of fanboys did. Then they complained about Last Jedi being too different. It's almost like there's no pleasing a certain segment of Star Wars fans! But I digress. J.J. Abrams had a seemingly impossible task: Reboot one of the most successful franchises of all time after a fallow period that had lasted decades. Do it by blending the old cast with a bunch of unknowns. Don't panic, but the fate of the franchise is in your hands. 

And he made something fun. It's not a perfect movie by any means; the whole Starkiller Base concept is completely illogical, for one thing. But damn, if it isn't a good time. 'Member when Kylo Ren held the blaster bolt in midair in front of a wise-cracking Poe? 'Member when we got to see the Millenium Falcon take flight again? 'Member the X-wings flying across the lake to confront the First Order TIEs? That was awesome!

The Force Awakens reminded us that Star Wars is meant to be fun. Forget all the prequels' convoluted nonsense about trade disputes and clone armies, and give us that chill-inducing moment where the light saber flies through the snowy forest, past the outstretched hand of Ben Solo, into the shocked, raised hand of our righteous new protagonist, Rey. It was the most fun I had at the movies this decade, and even the trilogy's underwhelming conclusion can't take that away.

6. John Wick (2014)
It's the best action flick of the decade, and it's driven by an incredibly simple premise: Legendary hit man retires and then un-retires because these assholes (including a mob boss' son) kill the dog his recently-deceased wife left him. Keanu Reeves plays the titular character as a largely silent and inevitable force of nature. It also introduces the charmingly ridiculous world of assassins who (mostly) adhere to strict codes of conduct and whose currency is gold coins. This works much better in the relatively limited confines of the Continental Hotel in the first movie; the sequels get a bit overstuffed. However, the original is an endlessly re-watchable bullet-filled ballet. As for Keanu's decade, he says it best in character: "Yeah, I'm thinking I'M BACK!"

5. Hell or High Water (2016) Netflix
I knew this was one of my favorite films of the decade when it first came out. I watched it again last week, and particularly in the last hour, I just kept thinking, over and over: "This movie is incredible." It's part heist flick, part neo-Western, and most powerfully, an observation of the ravages of capitalism in small town America. It features an all-time Jeff Bridges role (I comprehend the weight of that statement) and a live wire performance from Ben Foster, who should be in more movies. The last scene is hold-your-breath perfection.

4. Eighth Grade (2018) Amazon Prime
This movie hits home on three levels. First, as a teacher of teens, I can recognize accurate portrayals of them on film or television, and how seldom they get it right (such as the awful Thirteen Reasons Why). Perhaps writer/director Bo Burnham's relative youth (he was only 27) helped him relate, but he absolutely nails what it's like to be a young person in today's world.

Secondly, I can still remember the turmoil of middle school, by far my least favorite childhood era. Eighth Grade agonizingly depicts the pubescent insecurity which is the defining element of that period and updates it for today's social media generation. The film starts with a earnest YouTube post by protagonist Kayla Day (a fantastic Elsie Fisher) about "being yourself." She does her best to come off as confident, but her crippling lack of self esteem is bubbling right below the surface.

Lastly, I've recommended this movie to several parents of junior high-aged kids, whose ranks I will join in a short couple years. There's a brilliant, moving connection between Kayla and her single dad (Josh Hamilton), as he struggles to relate to this brand-new adolescent being that has invaded his daughter. Paradoxically, she wants to be left alone but needs him more than ever, and it's absolutely heart wrenching.

3. The Florida Project (2017) Amazon Prime
I don't cry at movies. The last one to make me legitimately sob was Marley & Me, which is manipulatively designed to make dog lovers weep, so that almost doesn't count. The ending of this film made me pretty emotional the first time I saw it. I watched it again last week to see if it would affect me the same way...and I cried like a little kid whose ice cream fell on the sidewalk. I was even more affected because I was doubly invested in the characters.

I'm not recommending it solely on the basis of its emotional impact. It's also a beautiful film about a segment of society that most of us would rather pretend doesn't exist. It centers on six-year-old Moonee (brilliant newcomer Brooklynn Prince) and her transitory existence living in a motel room with her reckless, irresponsible single mother in Orlando, only a couple miles from Disney World. Willem Dafoe plays the hotel manager who becomes invested his tenants' lives despite himself. He's a handyman who can fix a leaky ice machine but can't cure the ills of these broken lives. 

Above all, The Florida Project is a superlative examination of childhood. It depicts the resilience and imagination of little kids, how all they really need are a couple friends, a welcoming environment, and a supportive provider in order to thrive. And ultimately what a betrayal it is to their innate innocence when those things are stripped away. This movie will absolutely rip your heart out, but you will be glad you saw it. 

2. Get Out (2017) 
We've now entered "defining film of the decade" territory. When we finally emerge from the cursed hellscape that is the Trump era, this will be one of the works that best explains what the fuck happened. Writer/director Jordan Peele even changed the ending after the 2016 election to make it happier; he thought Chris getting imprisoned for the murder of his white tormentors along with the country choosing an overt racist to be the most powerful man in the world was just too damn depressing. 

Although I don't consider this a horror film, it definitely has those elements in its DNA (Rosemary's Baby is again an influence here; if you haven't seen it, time's a wasting). But what elevates the film transcends any easy labels. The metaphor of "the sunken place" is an all-timer, and the performances are all top notch. There's a reason the movie sprung 1,000 memes; it touched on themes that are typically hard to make into something this entertaining and mainstream. The film is near perfection; I can't think of a single weak moment or anything I'd change about it (although checking out the alternate ending is a must). 

1. The Social Network (2010) 
This is as good a time as any to express my frustration with the Academy Awards, which theoretically should award Best Picture to the film that will hold up best as the most important and lasting, the one people will remember that defined that year. Without looking it up, do you know what film won Best Picture for 2010? It was The King's Speech, which you likely saw once, enjoyed, and proceeded to never think about again for the rest of your life. 

Whereas, The Social Network was a masterpiece when it debuted at the start of the decade and has aged spectacularly. The dream team of writer Aaron Sorkin and director David Fincher produced something that felt incredibly relevant when it came out and now feels more prescient than ever. Consider that at the time the film was criticized for taking liberties with the truth and going too rough on Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg. Jesse Eisenberg's depiction was deemed by some to be unfair to Zuckerberg. 

You know what? Those points were half right. The incredible thing is that time has revealed Zuckerberg to be even more of a cold space alien who will not let ethical concerns get in the way of growing his company into a global behemoth. There's a good argument to be made that he's one of the five most powerful people in the world, and Trump wouldn't have been elected without Facebook's platform. If anything, Eisenberg's portrayal humanizes Zuck in a way that feels impossible while he robotically dodges questions in Congressional hearings. 

This film cautioned us about the rise of social media and tech culture in its early stages. As a society, we found ourselves unable to adapt, and now entire swaths of the population get 100% of their information from biased, misleading, flat-out dishonest sources. They treat it as gospel and share it into their echo chambers. Meanwhile, online interaction makes it all too easy to dehumanize and "other" those who don't share our point of view. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go share this blog on Facebook with all my friends who loathe Donald Trump.

My 25 Favorite Songs of the Decade: 2010-2019

I started out trying to keep this to 20, like I did last decade, but there were some vital entries that were going to get relegated to the "Honorable Mention" section, and I couldn't abide that. Turns out that even though album listening is out of vogue, there are more songs than ever! And even as I move into middle age, I still love lots of them. That's heartening!

I had two kids this decade, which definitely affects some of these choices. Not because I started listening to Barney or Raffi or whatever, but because I still play what I like in the car, so John (born in 2010) and Rory (born in 2012) are exposed to it. There are songs that probably wouldn't have made this list, except that one or both of them kept requesting that I play it over and over. I'll put an asterisk (*) next to the ones my kids love and demand. Of course, there were songs that they adored that DIDN'T make the list and I grew to loathe, such as three-year-old John's constant demand that I find "Light 'em Up, Daddy! I want Light 'em Up!" on the radio. In contrast, we have an adorable video of him singing "You Belong With Me" on the fireplace mantle.

As usual, Honorable Mentions are in no particular order:
Chvrches: "Get Out," "Clearest Blue," and "Recover," The Maine: "Heaven, We're Already Here" and "Flowers on the Grave," The Struts: "Primadonna Like Me*,"Only Just a Call Away," and "Put Your Money on Me*," The Wombats: "Turn," "Emoticons," and "Lemon to a Knife Fight," Weezer: "Da Vinci," "Mexican Fender," "L.A. Girlz" and their cover of "No Scrubs," Strumbellas: "Spirits," Robyn: "Dancing on My Own" and "Call Your Girlfriend," Selena Gomez: "Come & Get It," Lorde: "Team" and "Green Light," Katy Perry: "Teenage Dream," "Firework," "TGIF," "Roar*," and "Never Really Over," Kate Nash: "Do Wah Doo," Waxahatchee: "Be Good" and "Takes So Much," Flo Rida ft. David Guetta: "Club Can't Even Handle Me," Pink: "Raise Your Glass," Lupe Fiasco: "Show Goes On" and "Things I'd Never Say," Bruno Mars: "The Lazy Song," Christina Perri: "Jar of Hearts" and "A Thousand Years" The Black Keys: "Lonely Boy" and "Little Black Submarines," Grouplove: "Colours," "Tongue Tied," "Itchin' on a Photograph," and "Ways to Go," Kanye West: "All of the Lights," Walk the Moon: "Anna Sun," The Killers: "Runaways," Paramore: "Still Into You," Pearl Jam:"Sirens," Kendrick Lamar: "HUMBLE," Bastille: "Pompeii," Kodaline: "All I Want," Rachel Platten: "Fight Song*" (would've made actual list, but I now associate it with Hillary Clinton somehow losing an election to Donald Trump), Jason Derulo: "Trumpets," M83: "Wait," and "Go!*," Counting Crows: "Possibility Days," Courtney Barnett: "Pedestrian at Best," Car Seat Headrest: "Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales," Alvvays: "Archie, Marry Me," Sharon Van Etten: "Seventeen," White Reaper: "Might Be Right," Jimmy Eat World: "The End is Everything," "Sure and Certain," "Littlething," "I Will Steal You Back," Taylor Swift: "Back to December," "Story of Us," "Ronan," "22," "Everything Has Changed," "WANEGBT," "Blank Space," "The New Romantics," "Getaway Car," "Cornelia Street," and "Cruel Summer."

25. Jenny Lewis: "On the Line" On the Line (2019)

I loved Jenny Lewis when she was with Rilo Kiley, and now I'm a huge fan of her solo career. This was my favorite song between the two albums she dropped in the 2010s; it's a shame she hasn't made a video for it yet.

24. Green Day: "Still Breathing" Revolution Radio (2016)

One of my four favorite bands couldn't replicate their supernova success of the past two decades, but as this song aptly demonstrates, they haven't gone anywhere and are still capable of bursts of greatness like this fist-to-the-sky anthem. This album wasn't one of my favorites, but the tour promoting it produced one of the best shows I've ever been to, so there's that.

23. Blink 182: "Bored to Death*" California (2016)

Like Green Day, they are royalty of the pop/punk genre. Unlike Green Day, they're a shell of their former selves after Tom DeLonge left the band. Mark Hoppus can still craft a banger, though. The rest of this album is a bit of a mess, but "Bored to Death" is a top tier Blink tune. *Rory LOVES this song.

22. Taylor Swift: "Lover" Lover (2019)

I was so goddamn relieved when this tune dropped ahead of the album release. The first two singles were ok, but here, finally, was vintage Taylor. I'm still mildly annoyed by the fact that she seems to think it's rebellious to leave your Christmas lights up...until JANUARY (gasp). But the rest of it's sublime.

21. Adele: "Someone Like You" 21 (2011)

"Rolling in the Deep" announced her presence, but this is one of the best breakup ballads ever. You know you've got emotional resonance when Saturday Night Live can pen an entire sketch around how sad a song is.

20. The Maine: "Slip the Noose*" You are O.K. (2019)

 

A former student breathlessly proclaimed this on Twitter as "the best album opener ever." My first response was to (rightfully) mock her with responses like Kurt Cobain wanting a word with her from the great beyond. Then I actually listened to the song. Hot damn, she was onto something. This is a great opening salvo to a fantastic album. 

19. The Mountain Goats: "The Diaz Brothers*" Transcendental Youth (2012)

This rollicking piano tune's upbeat tempo belies the nasty underbelly of the lyrics. Which are seemingly about two scoundrel brothers attempting to evade frontier justice determined to lynch them. It's one of my kids' early (incredibly inappropriate) favorites. 

18. Billie Eilish: "Bad Guy" When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? (2019)

 I work with teenagers, so I was aware of Billie Eilish before most of the rest of America was. I'd even heard "You Should See Me in a Crown" before her album dropped. I bought it the day it came out, and the instant the bass line of "Bad Guy" pulsed through the speakers, I knew she was onto something. It's easily the song of Summer 2019, and never before has "Duh" been used with more surgical precision. 

17. Bleachers: "Rollercoaster" Strange Desire (2014)

Jack Antonoff should probably get some kind of "Best of the 2010s" award for his contributions to the musical canon. Between fun., Bleachers, and all the songwriting/producing work he did (particularly for my girl Tay-Tay), he had himself a decade. And despite the latter half of the decade being a pretty huge downer for the more sane among us, his songs pulse with a much-needed optimism. 

16. Katy Perry: "The One That Got Away" Teenage Dream (2010)

As I wrote in my Top 10 albums post, this album was ubiquitous and produced five #1 singles. This wasn't one of them, which is probably the reason it remains my favorite; it didn't get quite the overplay that the others did. Plus, the video has Diego Luna!

15. fun.: "Carry On*" Some Nights (2012)

I guess everyone from this band got too famous to make music together, which is a shame. They have a talent for huge, harmonizing anthems. This one was often sung in our car with "carry" replaced by "Rory" when she was an infant ("Rory on, Rory on!"). I wouldn't blame anyone for wanting to punch me at this point.

14. Miley Cyrus: "Wrecking Ball" Bangerz (2013)

I couldn't find a way to post the original video, which is either a blessing/curse because it is A LOT. Song and video will be forever intertwined, but the tune stands on its own, I think. Miley's been wronged, and I am here for it. Fun Fact: On a trip to Atlanta, we stopped at a tavern called "The Wrecking Bar." You're never gonna believe this, but I annoyed the piss out of everyone that day with my bleating, pun-filled renditions.

13. Cold War Kids: "First" Hold My Home (2014)

Just a fun little alt-rock tune that perked me up every time it came on the radio, which was a lot. Imparted some good life lessons, too.

12. Chvrches: "Graffiti" Love is Dead (2018)

Chvrches probably wins my Best New Band of the 2010s award. Someone please notify them; I'm sure they'd be awestruck and humbled by the achievement. I had a tough time choosing which of their tunes I wanted on the list, but in the end I went with one of the lesser-known tracks. For a time I thought this song might be referencing a school shooting, but now I think that's just where the dark corners of my imagination take me.

11. Belly: "Human Child" Dove (2018)

If you're roughly my age, and you're trying to place Belly, yes, they are the "Feed the Tree" outfit. I maintain they are one of the most criminally underrated 90s bands. Tanya Donnelly is my favorite female vocalist ever and has my undying devotion. I commented on the Facebook post when this video was released that it was my favorite song of the past year (it really was), and Tanya "liked" my comment. I had to take a week off of school to recover.

10. Weezer: "Foolish Father" Everything Will Be Alright In the End (2014)

There's no way 20-something me appreciates this song on the same level that late-30s me did. I just love the themes of maturity and redemption and Weezer throwing their goddamn fastball again. When the titular album refrain bangs in at the end? Pure bliss.

9. Demi Lovato: "Skyscraper" Unbroken (2011)

Sure, we all want Demi to figure things out and be well. But man, as long as she's struggling, I hope she continues to belt out anthems like this one. You can feel the raw pain and her powerful belief in herself, even as she acknowledges how tenuous it can all be.

8. The Strokes: "Under the Cover of Darkness" Angles (2011)

Remember when the Strokes were going to "save rock n' roll"? That was literally what people were saying in the early 2000s. Limp Bizkit and Staind and Korn and their ilk made mainstream rock music so shitty that the Strokes seemed like saviors. Well, they made three pretty great albums and then Angles, where this is the only standout song. But what a last gasp it is.

7. Lorde: "Supercut" Melodrama (2017)

Lorde had a helluva decade. Two huge albums, and three singles that became part of the cultural zeitgeist. However, I always preferred this wistful tune to the bigger hits. It's like a mashup of all the best stuff of her other tunes. A..."supercut," if you will.

6.Vampire Weekend: "Step" Modern Vampires of the City (2013)

Just a wonderfully composed song. I don't totally know what it's about, but all the East Bay city shout-outs (Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda) are awesome.

5. Taylor Swift: "Long Live" Speak Now (2010)

I'll be honest: I could've slid this right down to #2, but I didn't wanna seem, you know, obsessive or anything. I love this song's underdog sensibility, the fantasy it keeps alive for all the kids who wanted to live the fairy tale high school existence but just got regular high school existence instead. It's a bit of a departure for Taylor, and it's her signature anthem.

4. The Struts: "Could've Been Me" Everybody Wants (2014)

Speaking of anthems, here's my favorite of the decade. This song perfectly encapsulates all the great things about The Struts: their ambition, audacity and go-for-broke ethos. They want nothing less than to be the biggest band in the world and make throngs of people wave their arms back and forth to songs just like this. I highly recommend obliging them. 

3. Sleigh Bells: "Rill Rill" Treats (2010)

This song just felt so delightfully different than anything I'd heard before, despite sampling an older Funkadelic tune. For standout lyrics, it's hard to top "Wonder what your boyfriend thinks about your braces." Effortlessly cool, it's the perfect song for driving around slowly with the top down. In fact, it's the decade's best cruising song, just after...

2. White Reaper: "1F*" You Deserve Love (2019)

This song was only released four or five months ago, but it was one of those rare times where the first time I heard it, I knew I loved it. It's absolutely the most fun three minutes you can spend. If the bouncy synth riff doesn't get you, the insanely catchy chorus bangs in, and all you want to do is drive around in a convertible 'Vette with these guys and listen to them come up with new licks on their guitars. My kids have played this song roughly 1,000 times on their own in the last few months, and I've never once felt like stopping them.
1. Taylor Swift: "All Too Well" Red (2012)

The contest was over the minute I heard this song, five tracks into the album, and kept hitting the back button as soon as it finished. Taylor is the queen of breakup ballads, and this is her magnum opus.

It's so incredible that sometimes I forget there's another whole verse after the devastating "You call me up again just to break me like a promise/So casually cruel in the name of being honest." That's such an unbelievable climax, and then she circles back to the beginning of the song with a bit of jealous triumph: "But you kept my old scarf from that very first week/Cuz it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me."

The strangest thing is that "All Too Well" was never released as a single, so it never blew up the way lots of her other tunes have. Now, of course, it's the one everyone screams for at her shows, and she acts all coy, as if she never knew people would love it so much. But I'm thinking even Taylor knew she wrote the song of the decade.

She knew it...all too well.

I'll just see myself out, thanks.

My Ten Favorite Albums of the Decade: 2010-2019

This will probably be the last decade I'll be able to make this list. The music business, like most of the entertainment industry, has become fragmented and plays to our increasingly short attention spans. I listened to albums all the way through with far less frequency than I did in the aughts (here's that list, if you're curious), which was already a downturn from the highs of the Nineties.

Thus, I didn't spend a ton of time agonizing over this list. The usual caveats apply: These are my favorite albums, the ones I spent the most time with on repeat. I'm not claiming them to be the "best." Musical taste is incredibly subjective; I like rock n' roll and pop music (preferably with a female vocalist). There is exceptional music being made in other genres; it's just generally not my thing.

Without further ado, here are the Honorable Mentions I couldn't quite squeeze onto my Top 10: Courtney Barnett: Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit (2015), Belly: Dove (2018), Jimmy Eat World: Integrity Blues (2016), Manchester Orchestra: A Black Mile to the Surface, The Killers: Battle Born (2012), The Struts: Young & Dangerous (2018), Taylor Swift: Speak Now (2010) and 1989 (2014), Chvrches: Love is Dead (2018), Billie Eilish: When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? (2019)

10. Sleigh Bells: Treats (2010)
This band felt like a revelation at the start of the decade, combining shredding guitar licks with electronica and Alexis Krauss' alternately breathy and snarling vocals. The front half of the album is chock full o' bangers ("Tell 'em," "Riot Rythym," and "Infinity Guitars") that culminates with one of those songs I still get excited by when I hear its opening chords, despite its ubiquitous presence: "Rill Rill." The back half doesn't hold up as well (nor did the band's trajectory), but the highs are dizzying.

9. Jenny Lewis: The Voyager (2014) and On the Line (2019)
Ok, I cheated here. I'll refund your subscription fee upon request. But these albums are perfect compliments; I couldn't imagine listing one without mentioning the other. Highlights from the first include "She's Not Me," "Just One of the Guys," and the sublime closing title track. Gun to head, I'd say the latter album is better, because "On the Line" is probably the best song on either album, and "Heads Gonna Roll" is pretty great, too. However, it's my blog, and I don't have to choose, so there.

8. Kesha: Rainbow (2017)
She dropped the silly dollar sign, stored up all the professional and personal pain she endured, and unleashed it on the world. This delightfully profane record is the most sonically varied on my list, as it vacillates from elements of hard rock ("Let 'em Talk") to Aretha Franklin-esque empowerment ("Woman") to the burn-it-all-down high note peak on the anthem "Praying." Oh, then she tosses in a country ballad duet with Dolly Freaking Parton and an adorable little acoustic guitar ballad about taking Godzilla to the mall. If you dismissed her as a boozy, disposable pop star at the start of the decade, well she'd probably invite you to "Suck. My. Dick" (actual line from "Let 'em Talk").

7. White Reaper: You Deserve Love (2019)
The first of a few albums on this list to remind me that although it may be on life support, rock is not dead. White Reaper has stated their intention to Make Guitar Great Again, and this qualifies as a helluva shot across the bow. At only half an hour long, You Deserve Love bangs in with the made-for-cruising opener "Headwind" and climaxes with "1F," an absolutely sublime way to spend three minutes and my pick for pop/rock song of the decade. Further on down the album is another gem receiving alt-rock radio attention, "You Might Be Right." The synth on many of the tracks borrows heavily from the 80s, but these guys feel like the future of rock.

6. Taylor Swift: Lover (2019)


It was Taylor's decade; the rest of us were just sorta there. Her 20s gave us four great albums (and one...uh...not-so-great one), and she closed it out with this delightful batch of tunes (which I've already written about more extensively). Twenty-something Taylor is now dead; long live thirty-something Taylor. May she remain forever in her feelings.

5. The Maine: You are O.K. (2019)


The Maine brought back what I missed most about rock music from the aughts: Emo angst! Although they're a much more hopeful outfit than, say, My Chemical Romance, this record would've fit right into 2006. It's also thematic, with the pop brilliance of the opener "Slip the Noose" and its lovely torment ("I was on the verge of breaking down/'til you came around/and not a second too late"). That line returns with the epic closer, "Flowers on the Grave" that defies you not to scream along with the refrain. In between there are angst-ridden anthems like "Numb Without You" and "Heaven, We're Already Here." This album scratched an itch I didn't know I had; I must've listened to it 15 times straight through.

4.  Katy Perry: Teenage Dream (2010)
It's not an overstatement to call this record the soundtrack of the early 2010s. It produced five number one singles; one featured Snoop Dogg, for Christ's sake! You couldn't go anywhere without hearing one of them, which probably annoyed lots of folks. Not I! There was a second there when Perry looked as if she'd make a play for the Queen of the Pop Stars, surpassing Taylor, Beyonce, et al. That...didn't happen. But she rode a giant gold lion at the Super Bowl, so she's doing fine! My favorite track isn't one of the #1s, by the way. It's "The One That Got Away," which only got to #3. You could say it was the one that...got away.

3. Weezer: Everything Will Be Alright in the End (2014)
Weezer is one of my favorite bands. Even if they hadn't made a record past 2005's Make Believe (where things first started to go noticeably downhill), that would still be true. I was content to keep buying their albums that had one or two good songs on them and filing their cds away on a shelf. I didn't even bother with 2010's Death to False Metal, as it was abundantly clear that they were playing out the string of some arduous record contract.

And then...this magnificent beast of a record appeared.

I'd argue it's either their third or fourth-best album (depending on how you feel about the Green Album, which I had on my 2000-2010 top-ten list). It's easily their most thematically ambitious. It felt like Rivers Cuomo had been waiting for years to write "Foolish Father," which brilliantly closes the album's main section (before the three-song epilogue). "Da Vinci" is a vintage Weezer tune that deserved a lot more radio love than it got (which was basically zero, as far as I can tell). "Ain't Got Nobody" fits right in with the catalogue of brilliant openers, and "The British are Coming" and "Cleopatra" encapsulate Rivers' loopy, quirky songwriting talents.

This album announced Weezer are here to stay, freeing them up to do things that made them rock celebrities to a whole new generation, like covering Toto's "Africa." They're back, and the world's a better place for it.

2. The Struts: Everybody Wants (2016)

Remember what was so fun about rock n' roll? The Struts and lead singer Luke Spiller sure as hell do. This unabashed throwback to swinging dick stardom would fit in any era. Spiller is what you get if you combined Bowie's glamorous androgyny, Jagger's self-assured libido, and Mercury's soaring vocal power. Think that's an exaggeration? That's exactly the point. The Struts come right at you with banger after banger and dare you not to get up and dance.

The album oozes attitude from the moment Spiller rolls his r's on "Roll Up" and then transitions into the decade's best anthem, "Could Have Been Me." That's followed by perhaps the record's biggest hit, "Kiss This," and then Spiller practically BEGS you to respond with "Oh yeeaaah" to the chorus of "Put Your Money on Me." Four songs, four home runs.

Spiller can do sensitive boyfriend type too, as he exhibits on "Mary Go Round" and the yearning "Only a Call Away." But just when you start thinking he's safe, the album's midpoint is an ode to partner swapping, aptly named "The Ol' Switcheroo." No subject matter is taboo to The Struts, as long as they can make it sound fun as hell. This was the record I recommended to the most people this year. Not enough took me up on it, but that's o.k.; The Struts won't rest until the world is ready to rock again.

1. Taylor Swift: Red (2012)

Even though 2014's 1989 was billed as her much-ballyhooed departure from country and transition to pop, it really happened on Red. The album's highlights, like "22" and "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" aren't country in the slightest. "I Knew You Were Trouble" has a dubstep drop. Red is the album where she figured out that she was talented enough to be whatever kind of artist she wanted to be, and she didn't have to stay in the country music industry's suffocating box.

This was the album I listened to the most times this decade, by the artist that most defined it. It also features the song of the decade...but that's a story for another blog.

Taylor's Back, and I'm a "Lover" of This New Set of Tunes

I'll be honest: I was kinda concerned for our girl after Reputation. Taylor Swift is the preeminent songwriter of her generation, precisely because she frames her personal experiences in ways the rest of us can relate to, even as she became one of the most recognizable people on Earth.

However, most of us...don't have a long-running feud with a notorious rapper and his uber-famous wife? Taylor's urge to present herself as some sort of battle-tested bad bitch imbued everything about Reputation. That album's lasting imagery was the giant snake she featured onstage during her world tour. It just all felt so artificial. Where was the Taylor who giggled with her "squad," who shook it off, who alternately celebrated/lamented her romantic relationships?

That Taylor returns on Lover, her best album since she went all pop, all the time. I guess she's been dating this handsome British actor for the past three years. He seems incredibly milquetoast, but if he makes her happy and keeps her producing golden pop goodness, good on ya, mate.

(Listens to earpiece)...I'm being told "good on ya, mate" is an Australian expression, not an English one. The important thing is that I am far too stupid and culturally insensitive to worry about such distinctions. 

Lover finds Taylor in a mostly upbeat mood; the album's first track "I Forgot That You Existed" is a lilting, vintage kiss-off to an ex. From that finger-snapping intro, the soon-to-be hits come rapid fire and don't stop until a bit of a lull on the back third of the album. If I had to wager, I'd bet on the record's second track, "Cruel Summer," becoming the most successful radio hit of the bunch. It's got the biggest chorus, and it's made for driving around with the windows down and warbling along.

Unlike Reputation, which felt stuffed with filler from the outset, there's not one skippable song on Lover until the album's 13th track (out of 18!), "False God." Before that misfire, you get a smorgasbord of instantly catchy tunes, from the crazy-in-love delight of "Paper Rings" to the wistful lament of "Cornelia Street." She dredges up old high school metaphors for "Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince" with its cleverly rousing chorus punctuated by the traditional pep rally chant: "GO! FIGHT! WIN!"


Feminism has never been Taylor's strong suit, and some of the lyrics on "The Man," where she (rightfully) points out gender double standards are a bit clumsy and on-the-nose ("They'd say I played the field before I found someone to commit to/and that would be o.k. for me to do"). However, calling out one of America's most famous and respected actors for being a legendary Lothario makes me chuckle every time: "And they would toast to me/oh, let the players play/I'd be just like Leo in Saint-Tropez."

The title track is a top-ten Taylor tune, with her playfully delicate crooning of a term ("looooooverrrrrr") that usually makes my skin crawl. It's one of several songs seemingly inspired by Tay-Tay's currently contented relationship status, along with the cheeky "London Boy," in which she boasts about hanging "in the pub, watching rugby with his friends." I find this claim dubious, but at least it's slightly more authentic than suggesting she frequents "a dive bar on the East side" on Reputation's biggest hit, "Delicate."

Of course, Taylor does pathos as well as sunny romanticism, as she reminds us on "Soon You'll Get Better." The Dixie Chicks join her for this heart-wrenching ballad about her mother's bout with cancer. I'm not sure it's her saddest tune (that title still goes to "Ronan," about a four-year-old boy who died of neuroblastoma), but if you can listen to a daughter's voice catch when she whispers "You'll get better soon...'cuz you have to" as she reckons with the possibility of losing her mother without getting a lump in your throat, then you're probably a sociopath.

If the album ended after that 12th track, there would be little to nitpick. The last third of the album contains the two upbeat pop songs already released as singles, "Me!" and "You Need to Calm Down." Both are perfectly fine, but I'll never accept that "Hey, kids! Spelling is fun!" was a good idea in any way, shape, or form. "Afterglow," "It's Nice to Have a Friend," and "Daylight" have all grown on me, but they do make for a bit of a snoozy end to the album.

Lover marks the end of Taylor's third decade on this increasingly crazy planet. It doesn't represent a growth in maturity, per se, because she's been a preternaturally gifted songwriter since she was in middle school. But it does seem that she's reached a point where she's truly content with who she is. Lover is a confident work by an artist who's decided to be the best version of herself, "reputation" be damned.

She's made up her mind to just be "Me!", and we should all be thankful for that.

Lover: A-
Reputation: C-
1989: B
Red: A
Speak Now: A-
Fearless: B+
Taylor Swift: Idk. I don't like country, never listened to it

Taylor Strays From Her "Reputation": Bland, Listless Record Ensues

 
It's insufferable to quote one's self, but watch me as I do it anyway. After my first listen of Taylor Swift's newest album Reputation I went back and re-read my review of 1989, where I worried that she "sold off a bit of her Taylor-ness." I wrote that some of the tracks suffered from a "touch of anonymity" and hoped that "Swift hasn't settled for being Queen of the Pop Princesses."

Dammit so much.

Most of Reputation can be described as "aggressively mediocre." It's full of synth beats, drum loops, and auto-tune. Even the finger snaps are electronic precision. Swift left banjos behind after Red; now she's chosen to forgo actual musical instruments altogether.

As the album's title suggests, Swift seems preoccupied with how she's perceived. On the otherwise unmemorable "Delicate," she sings, "My reputation's never been worse/so you must like me for me." I want to give her a hug like Robin Williams did to Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting and assure her that we DO like her for her. She's one of her generation's greatest songwriters. She doesn't need to mold herself into something she's not.

Take, for instance, the album's second track, "End Game." It features rappers Future and Ed Sheeran. What's that? You didn't know Ed Sheeran was a rapper? Well, he gets his pasty ginger flow on, and it goes about how you'd expect. The song might as well be called "Generic 2017 Hip-Hop Chart-Topper." That's followed by the similarly awful "I Did Something Bad," and sometimes, folks, the jokes just write themselves, amiright?

Most of the songs aren't bad, but they're just sort of...there. I listened to the record three times through before sitting down to write this, and I still can't tell you anything about "So It Goes," "Don't Blame Me," "King of My Heart," or "Dancing With Our Hands Tied."  There are 15 songs on the album, and I'd characterize at least 1/3 as unequivocal filler.

Then there are a few tunes that qualify as "Fine, I guess?" I'd put "Call it What You Want," "Gorgeous," and "Dress" in this category. They'd all be among the worst songs on Taylor's better albums, but here they stand out from the colorless flotsam that makes up most of Reputation.

Thankfully, there are some highlights. The "Hard Knock Life" homage "This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things" makes for a certified banger. In addition to a Great Gatsby shout-out, it features a cackling Taylor breaking up in the midst of a faux apology that she "can't even say with a straight face." The Jack Antonoff influence is strong on what is probably the album's best song, "Getaway Car." It sounds like a really good Bleachers song sung by Swift, which is sort of ideal.

I've even leaned into "Look What You Made Me Do," even though I was horrified by it when it was released. It's a total disaster of a song, but at least it's a fun, campy disaster with a chorus that's delightful to chant when you've just done something naughty. And it's definitely on-brand Taylor- petty and directed at her haters.

You know what's off-brand and artificial? All the boozy references on Reputation. Does anyone really believe Swift enjoys "whiskey on ice," as she claims on "Gorgeous"? Or that she swills "beer out of plastic cups" ("King of My Heart") and frequents a "dive bar on the East Side" ("Delicate")? Plus, she drops her first recorded curse word, accusing some ex of "talking shit." I have to be careful about playing Taylor Frigging Swift in the car with my kids now? That's some fracking bullspit.

I dunno. Maybe this is who she is now. Perhaps it's an honest representation. But it sure feels like she's straining to prove that the old Taylor, as she claims on "LWYMMD," is dead.

Not until the album's final track does the wistful, winsome Swift appear with a spare piano ballad about helping a friend clean up empty bottles on "New Year's Day." It would be a pretty unremarkable tune on the rest of her catalogue, but here it stands out. It's like the old Taylor broke through for one song at the end, forcing her way through the over-produced electronic sheen of the rest of the album.

Taylor, we know you're still in there. If you can hear us, harken to the words of a legendary songwriter:

Come back...be here.

Nolanometer Final Grade: C-

1989: B
Red: A
Speak Now: A-
Fearless: B+
Taylor Swift: IDK. I don't like country, never listened to it.

Merchants of Death (Cigarettes, not Guns)

When I was growing up, you could smoke on airplanes.

How could it have possibly been permissible to allow passengers to exhale carcinogens inside an enclosed metal tube at 30,000 feet? Well, there were smoking and non-smoking sections. Duh.

My favorite childhood restaurant was El Charro in Lafayette, California: an affluent, mostly liberal suburb of the Bay Area. Whenever we'd go to dinner, I'd pull the levers of a machine in the lobby that looked like this:

When I attended high school in the '90s, there was controversy about a group of students known as the "backlotters." These were the misfits who met in an unoccupied lot behind the gym to smoke cigarettes. Smoking on campus was technically against the rules, but that location had tradition of lax enforcement. There was pretty significant support for the backlotters as oppressed victims in a civil rights struggle.

For almost the entirety of American history, cigarettes were inextricably woven into the fabric of this country's culture and economy. Since 1612, when the Jamestown colonists dropped the first tobacco seeds into the ground, firearms have been ever-present.

Wait, what? Did I just type "firearms" there? I meant cigarettes. This blog is about cigarettes.

Anyway, there were always people along the way decrying cigarettes as being, you know, a terrible pox on public health. "But who cares if I do it to myself?" the nicotine lovers bleated. Opponents pointed out that it wasn't just a matter of keeping it to oneself, since secondhand smoke led to roughly 11,000 homicide deaths by firearm each year.

Whoops! That makes no sense. Secondhand smoke isn't a gun! And that analogy doesn't even match up, because then people who kill themselves by smoking would be like the 21,000 who commit suicide by firearm every year. You can't kill yourself by smoking! Not instantly, anyway. It takes a while.

Also, smoking looks cool! You're gonna tell Americans they can't do something that looks this badass?

Wrong pic! Sorry about that. Got it mixed up with the other Heathers photo above.

The point is, Americans loved their cigarettes. Would never give up their cigarettes. Would die before they let the government take their guns cigarettes.

Then, about three decades ago, the (smoke-filled) winds of change began to blow. Smoking on airplanes was prohibited in 1990. Many states, including California, banned smoking in bars and restaurants. My high school students occasionally smell like weed; they almost never reek of cigarette smoke. I smelled it on one girl this year and asked her about it. She replied with a curled lip and an eye roll: "Ugh, I know. It's disgusting. My stepdad smokes. It's so gross."

What had formally been a badge of high school cool is now so gross.

In other words, this:

Has become this:

It's not like cigarettes are illegal. You can still buy them pretty much anywhere. So what happened? Basically, we, as a society, decided that guns were a public health nuisance, and we'd all be better off if people smoked a lot less of them. Dammit. I did it again. CIGARETTES. Not guns.

The most important shift was actually telling the truth about what cigarettes do. For years, tobacco companies claimed that not only were cigarettes not bad for you, but that they were actually healthy. I mean, look at this shit:

 You know what's a good way to lose weight? Acquire lung cancer!

 

 Which brand of cigs does YOUR dentist recommend?

 

Now, of course, this is the message we associate with cigarettes:

Even people who smoke admit it's no good for them. They just like smoking. They have fewer places to do so, it costs more, and they've largely become social pariahs in many areas. They know it's a vice; many of them try to quit, but ultimately it's their right to smoke as Americans. But none of them say stuff like, "The more cigarettes around, the safer everyone is." 

Much credit tor this generational change goes to good ol' fashioned American lawsuits. Consumers and former consumers sued the pants off Big Tobacco so badly that the companies had to pay for anti-smoking commercials themselves. The brand became so tarnished that America's largest tobacco manufacturer (Philip Morris) changed its name to distance itself from its own product.

Wouldn't it be crazy if that happened in some other industry? Just to pick one TOTALLY at random, what if, for example, after every mass shooting, all the victims and their families got together and sued Sig Sauer/Bushmaster/Intratec, etc? That can't work, though. Because cigarettes and guns are completely different.

You know how I know that's true?

Because if this adorable little girl were holding a lit cigarette, you'd be shocked and appalled. Because cigarettes are not toys. Because they're deadly. Because you shouldn't use them around kids, and you sure as hell shouldn't teach your kids that smoking is cool or for God's sake show them how to smoke as children.

At least today you wouldn't. When I was growing up, people smoked on airplanes, and that was totally normal. Things change.

Some things do.

Taylor Swift: Destroyer of Worlds

Like many of my generation, I have a drawer full of concert ticket stubs. Pearl Jam, R.E.M., Radiohead, U2, Green Day, Smashing Pumpkins, No Doubt. You'll probably notice a theme. Mostly, my previous show-going experiences have been limited to alt-rock performers. I'm used to a lead singer who stands in one place, staring at his shoes, while the guitarists occasionally criss-cross each other on stage while bouncing around. Sometimes the house lights flash in time with the music. Maybe a couple flames here or there.

Thus, walking into Levi's stadium with my wife last Friday night to behold the reigning queen of the music scene, I really had no idea what to expect. I just knew that 50,000 people all paid over $100 a ticket (I'm sure there were tickets sold in the thousand-dollar range), so the pressure was on Taylor Swift to deliver. For the most part, she did not disappoint.

First, a word about Levi's. My sister and I are lifelong 49ers fans:

It's pretty ironic that my first visit to their new home (and our brick) was not to watch my team; on the other hand, I have a lot more love for Tay-Tay these days than Niners owner Jed York, who could be the topic of a much meaner blog entry. The stadium is completely generic. No character at all. Even the font on the concession stands is boring. It's a nightmare to get into and out of. Draught beer costs $11, and every swallow is slightly bitter because it helps to line Jed's pockets. But hey, it's nice and clean! For now.

We got to our seats and found translucent rubber bracelets taped to the back of them, like t-shirts at a Warriors' playoff game. We also encountered a precocious, blonde-braided nine-year-old in the row in front of us named Bailey. Bailey and her family had driven down from Williams, about three hours to the north. She was impressed that I had been to France, but one-upped me by having once traveled to Utah.

Bailey represents a fraction of the broad tapestry that is T-Swift fandom these days. In the row in front of her were a group of four 20-somethings chugging Coors Light and hugging often. On either side of us were middle-aged mothers with tween girls. Behind us were some mixed pairs in their 30s. Sure, the demo still skews about 80% female (which has its advantages: ZERO line for the men's restroom), but Swifties are legion in age and appearance.

Just as Bailey began to grow impatient (her bedtime was 9:00, and Swift's set didn't kick off until 8:45), the sounds of a subway station became audible, and soon Taylor emerged through the stage floor to the synth keys of "Welcome to New York," 1989's opening track, sporting her signature shades:

All those glowing white lights visible in the crowd are the bracelets, which lit up and pulsed with the beat. It's hard to overstate how cool this was. The wristbands changed color and varied not only by section but by seat, which delighted Bailey, who had scavenged an extra and had one on each wrist:

 The effect was much like one of those card tricks that the crowd does at a football game halftime show, but for two straight hours. I'm old enough to remember when people still held up lighters, but this was way more fun (and certainly much better than holding up cell phones). On the subject of lighters, this was also the first concert I've ever been to where I never caught even a whiff of weed. We did see a particularly drunk lady get ejected; accounting for how long the concession lines were pre-show, that was actually a pretty impressive feat.

Taylor proceeded to run through a couple of the more upbeat 1989 tracks before mixing in a blistering version of "I Knew You Were Trouble," replete with smoke blasts on the chorus hooks:

There were frequent breaks between songs so she could change costumes, which is something else I'm unfamiliar with. Eddie Vedder shedding his flannel is about the closest comp. During these times, the video screens would display testimonials from Taylor's cadre of BFF's, such as Selena Gomez, Haim, Cara Delevingne, her cats, and Abigail Anderson, of "red-headed Abigail" fame on Swift's early hit, "Fifteen."

Speaking of older tunes, they were noticeably lacking. She played nearly every song off 1989, but perhaps only six or seven others. Even those were given a 1989 sound. There was nary a banjo to be heard on "Love Story," which was coated with an electronic, glossy sheen. For "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," Taylor channeled her inner Joan Jett, snarling her way through the tune while shredding on electric guitar:

Personally, I was a tad bummed by the set list. I like 1989, but it's not my favorite Taylor album. As with any touring act, you know going in that the focus will mainly be on the newest album, but I gladly would've traded special guest Fifth Harmony's performance of "Worth It" for an old-fashioned rendition of "You Belong With Me." I loves me some Taylor ballads, and the only one she really did was the album's closer, "Clean."

There were also times when the energy in the building flagged a bit. Taylor fancies herself a storyteller a la Bruce Springsteen, and there were moments during her girl power motivationals that had some of us hoping she'd get on with it and play a song already. In those instances, she creeps right up to being a caricature of herself, doling out generic platitudes about self esteem and not worrying about other people's opinions of you. If only there were a song in her oeuvre that covers all that in an insanely catchy, upbeat fashion...

Near the end of the show, a worn-out Bailey turned back to me and asked how much longer I thought this was gonna go. I explained how encores work and that we hadn't even heard 1989's signature tune yet. Not placated, she went over to curl up in her mom's lap, head against her chest. As the strains of "Out of the Woods" faded out and the place went dark briefly, I wondered if she would be able overcome her weariness and...
wait for it
wait for it
wait for it

"Shake it Off"?

I needn't have worried.