MIDNIGHTS BY TAYLOR SWIFT OR THE CASE OF THE SEXY BABY

Midnights took the world by storm on October 21. And while I did not stay up to listen to it on Thursday night due to severe jet lag, I listened to it first thing Friday morning when I woke up at 5am.

Despite all of the criticism that this album received from internet trolls regarding the wacky lyricism and apparent step back in over all quality of music compared to Folklore and Evermore, there is no denying that "Anti-Hero" is a certified banger. (There are some other good songs too. Like the one about John Mayer ("Would've, Could've, Should've") and the one about Tom Hiddleston ("Midnight Rain"). And the one about Nathan Fielder ("Mastermind").) Some people describe the album as a perfect blend of 1989 and Reputation, and others say it’s like Reputation aged like a fine wine over the last five years.

​But there has been a question in my mind that has plagued me for days since its release, and I dare say that my review of this album depends on and revolves around this very important question:

Who is the “sexy baby” that she alludes to?

Taylor Swift scholars such as myself who have developed the art of esoteric meaning have scoured every corner of the universe looking for the answers.

Before we get into who the baby might be, let’s eliminate a few obvious candidates:

Baby Jesus. It can’t be baby Jesus because baby Jesus was ugly. Philosophers at the time believed that Jesus was born "perfectly formed," and because of that, he looked like an abomination.

Colin Robinson. At the end of What We Do In the Shadows Season 3, Colin Robinson the energy vampire dies, and a baby version of himself emerges from his decaying body. With an eerie resemblance to baby Jesus, it’s downright terrifying. Therefore, it can’t be Colin Robinson.

And here are the candidates for who the sexy baby might be:

​Art of Not Baby Jesus. I recently went on vacation to Amsterdam and Brussels. During this time, I visited quite a few museums. In those museums, I found lots of paintings of babies, some of which a genius (or a cynical person might say pervert) like Taylor Swift might find sexy.

I found myself examining these paintings in retrospect wondering, Is it possible that this is the baby the prophecy foretold?

Could it be these babies frolicking in the forest? There certainly are a lot of them.

The sexual tension between these two is off the charts. Like, damn. Get a room!

Chonk king.

At the end of the day, I determined that it could not be any of these babies, not because my hypothesis was ridiculous from the very beginning, but because after rigorous examination, I determined that none of these babies were sexy enough to be the sexy baby referred to in the song.

Twilight. One TikTok video suggested that the "sexy baby" was Renesmee from Twilight, and the "monster on the hill" was reference to ex-boyfriend Taylor Lautner's character Jacob. Like sure, maybe, but that baby is pretty demented, and why would she be comparing herself to Taylor Lautner? Nice try, but not so fast.

New Girl. In an episode of New Girl, Coach and Schmidt have a modeling competition, and they argue over whose "sexy baby" is better. It’s hilarious, yet disturbing. And while Taylor made one of the best television cameos of all time in the series, I don't believe Coach and Schmidt are the babies to whom she's referring. 

30 Rock. Okay, now here’s the boring part. Despite my insistence in my comments on TikTok, the biggest consensus online is that “sexy baby” is a reference to an episode of 30 Rock featuring Cristin Milioti (the mother from How I Met Your Mother), where she plays a rising comedian with a ditsy persona. Liz Lemon tells her to drop the “sexy baby act.”

If this is true, kudos to Taylor Swift on the reference. I love 30 Rock, but honestly it’s kind of disappointing if this is the case. I need something more unhinged.

​Conclusion. However, until we get a definitive answer to this question from the horse’s mouth, can we definitively say that this is a good album? Without the answer to this question, it leaves room for supposed “fans” (not true fans like myself) and critics to come in and suggest that maybe Carly Rae Jepson’s latest album, which was released on the same day as Midnights, is actually a better album front to back. And we can't have that happening, can we?