The Coronation vs. The Eras Tour
...Ready for it?
I’ve started adding polls to my Hump Day Quickies. Recently, I asked for you to vote on writing topics. You chose “The Coronation vs. The Eras Tour” and I’m so glad you did.
So…Are you ready for it?
The Eras Tour has been all over my newsfeed since March. In that time, Taylor Swift has seen dating scandals, fashion show stoppers, and pilgrimages to Cornelia Street, all while performing a three-hour setlist three nights a week.
Fearless.
I’ve been idly swiping through footage of fans and show highlights for so long that it feels like I’ve been on tour with her. I was there when she controlled lightening, mouthed secret messages, and switched a song out because of her breakup.
I remember it all too well.
Diving into the newsfeed.
The consistency and breadth of storytelling around the tour has been incredible.
Comparatively, the coronation was a blip on my radar. All that paraded through my timeline was a slow-mo video of Kate Middleton set to “Miracles Happen” and a long list of satirical memes (including this gem).
To me, Taylor is the obvious superpower of the modern world.
When King Charles wrapped his chubby little fingers around the sceptre, it wasn’t a display of power. It was a traditional costume party. A theory only made stronger by the sheer amount of giant fascinators in attendance.
If you asked Charles, I’m sure he’d say it was a completely modern take on the cermony. For the first time, a woman was allowed to present The Jeweled Sword of Offering. An all-black gospel choir sang. Instead of a long line of bowing and cheek kissing, King Charles settled for shouts of “God save the King!”
Not only modern, but humble, too.
In 2023, I’m not convinced that anyone can successfully update a medieval ritual where a man is anointed by God to wear a crown. This paragraph by Stephen Marche says it all
In a time of post-post-colonialism, of anti-racist iconoclasm, a time in which the very notion of gender as a legitimate distinction is contested, and Christianity has been reduced to a scandal management system with costumes, a 74-year-old British gentleman will ride a fancy carriage to an old church where a few other elderly British gentlemen in gilded dresses will declare him emperor, patriarch and head of state because God says so.
Best believe I'm still bejeweled
The last coronation happened in a different world. Queen Elizabeth was young and nothing like it had been televised before. In fact, more people tuned into her coronation in 1953 than Charles’.
The dip in viewers could be a symptom of a more apathetic fan base (can we say the monarchy has fans?) or, more likely, of divided attention. King Charles is competing against chair choreography, hair extensions, and fully sequined bodysuits. All of which may have made the day more exciting… Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.
Almost tragically, around 140,000 people opted to watch Johnny English Strikes Again, starring Mr. Bean, instead. Ouch.
Even still, around 18 million people tuned in to the coronation. Those are huge numbers. Taylor Swift saw about 2.4 million tickets sold for the first leg of the tour, and, in so doing, broke Ticketmaster.
Considering the descrepency, what is it that makes me feel the power of Taylor so much more?
For one, the steady stream of her influence is hard to ignore. Her lyrics have made their way into the Senate. Presently, 10 of her albums are in the Billboard Top 100.
Two, my algorithm (correctly) assumes I care about her more.
Her fans are also louder. In Philadelphi, 210,000 people bought seats to her show. Another 20,000 stood outside the stadium to sing along.
20,000.
As one TikToker points out, that, based on her level of influence, there is no reason she couldn’t become president. Miss Americana.
In my newsfeed, Taylor’s direct competitor is Beyoncé. Her Renaissance Tour kicked off earlier this month, sparking a mass expedition to Stockholm where tickets were cheaper.
The similarities between the coronation and the Renaissance Tour may be easier to draw. Reneigh, the album’s glitter horse, could easily have pulled Charles down British streets. Beyoncé, herself, is regarded as a Queen. She was crowned by the voice of the people - her people.
Showing up to my friend’s “casual” dinner
Beyoncé’s fans (the Beyhive) are so notoriously intense that they’ve inspired a show about obsession. Between them and the Swifties, it’s clear that a smaller, more dedicated fanbase is scarier than widespread indifference. If the King, Beyoncé, and Taylor Swift decided to wage war on each other, Charles' would be dead in a heartbeat.
I fully understand the passion of fans. A Beyoncé performance is enough to make anyone bow in submission. The hits, power vocals, and hair whips remind us all that she is superhuman. Untouchable.
And, popstars put in work.
The same cannot be said of King Charles. Having been (supposedly) chosen by God, Charles has lived a charmed life with no responsibility beyond being available when his mother died. As far as I know, he’s eating pudding in his family palace, still wearing his gargantuan crown.
Meanwhile, Taylor and Beyoncé, however, are doing acrobatics, dodging papparazi, and resting their voices.
Maybe the work ethic is why they rule differently, too. They show gratitude to their followers and reward them for their allegiance. Taylor is famous for planting clues in her work. They more you pay attention, the closer to her you feel.
As such, the Swifties proudly and voluntarily sing along to all ten minutes of All To Well. They pledge their allegiance by buying merch and willingly screaming praise without prompting. For a fan, it’s a badge of honour to lose your voice at a show or spend too much money on branded t-shirt.
Not so at a coronation. The monarchy conducts itself like a burden. We tune it with a sense of obligation and foreboding as a new royal bows to the crown. The rehearsed calls and responses only make it more ominous. And, at the end of the day, a tea-towel is the coolest merch available.
It begs the question, who is this all for? It’s hard not to see the whole ordeal as self-indulgent, though I’m sure King Charles thinks it’s a form of sacrifice.
Heavy is the crown.
On the flipside, touring is gruelling. It’s hard to argue that the show isn’t for the fans. Taylor chose months of work and time away from her loved ones to give her loyal subjects a show. In turn, we thank her for her presence with cold hard cash. A fair (and much clearer) trade.
When all is said and done, it’s easier to rally around someone who’s in it for themselves than chained to an institution.
Initially, I thought this article would be about power and influence. To most people in my circle, the monarchy is less culturally relevant than Taylor Swift singing about John Mayer in the rain.
In reality, the King still has a gravitas and an influence that can’t be denied. The comparison comes down to tone.
I feel dread when I think about King Charles’ portrait on our money. His face reminds me of the photos of Prince Andrew with Jeffrey Epstein and Princess Diana’s death. The whole royal family feels like a tether to a past none of us particularly want to remember. King Charles is merely one link in a rotted sausage.
The Eras Tour, by contrast, is a celebration of reinvention. It’s a reminder that there is always a way to move forward. From country star to scorned ex to romantic to dreamer - there is a better tomorrow and a cuter, more glittery outfit just around the corner.
It’s a love story.
Bonus points if you caught all the song references…
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