When Ryan Adams covered Oasis’s Wonderwall on his 2004 album Love Is Hell, he exploited the fecund space between Liam’s foghorn delivery and the sad, swirling longing of Noel’s lyrics. On Taylor Swift’s 1989, however, which he has recreated here in full, there is comparatively little room for Adams and his mournful guitar. He may begin the likes of Bad Blood and Blank Space by unearthing appealing melodies from Swift’s harsh, mega-pop productions, but once the choruses kick in, Adams is at the mercy of their unyielding, playground-style chants. Being a ruthlessly efficient popstar, Swift’s sentiment in this collection of songs is as precision-tooled as her sound; she articulates the awful, ecstatic rootlessness of being in your 20s with a detail and directness not often heard in pop. It’s why, in Adams’s mouth, her words frequently strike a false note – or worse, in the case of Shake It Off and Wildest Dreams, a comical one.
