from Taylor Swift (2006)
Before Taylor Swift, I found Eric Church. Rolling Stone made a big deal about him back when I used to care what Rolling Stone made a big deal about, and so I listened to Carolina and Chief on an iPod touch. One track rose above the rest. A nostalgia pixie stick called “Springsteen” in which Church remembers being 17 cruising in a jeep under the stars with a girl on his arm while the Boss sings “like a soundtrack to a July Saturday night.”
When I heard “Tim McGraw,” the first Taylor Swift song to catch my attention, I thought gosh ‘dern, she made Church’s “Springsteen” even better. Then I learned that she wrote “Tim McGraw” five years before the release of “Springsteen.” When she was fourteen years old. In a math class.
“Tim McGraw” is early Taylor at her best: songs about teenage love, lust, longing, and loss that make you feel like you’re fumbling on the backroads in the backseat of his Chevy truck. This song avoids the clunky abstraction that sours me on some of her other early work. Each line hits like Tyson in the 80s, an aged single-malt, or “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.” Even if she never wrote another verse, “Tim McGraw” would qualify Taylor Swift for the songwriting hall of fame.
Lyric:
“When you think happiness
I hope you think that little black dress
Think of my head on your chest
And my old faded blue jeans”