With the release of Red (Taylor’s Version) last Friday, Taylor Swift is now two for two on projects that she has successfully reclaimed as her own in the face of music mogul Scooter Braun infamously buying — and then selling — the masters for her first five albums. This re-recording process has ushered in something of a Taylor renaissance; not only are we given the opportunity to recontextualize her work, but we’re also exposed to an expanded canon as a result of the mountain of new songs she’s given us. Last week’s discourse was all about the 10-minute extension and subsequent short film for “All Too Well,” which turned one of Taylor’s best ballads into an even more astonishing document of grief. However, after only four days, I can already say I’m sick of hearing about scarves, broken promises and Jake Gyllenhaal. Thankfully, Taylor has seized upon this moment to give a video to a vault cut, “I Bet You Think About Me.”

“I Bet You Think About Me” isn’t nearly as dramatic or mournful as the “All Too Well” revision, but it is one of Taylor’s most tried and true assets: the “fuck you” spite ballad. The object of her ire here is a rich, snobby, pretentious ex who always thought he was better than her. The difference with this song as opposed to “Mean” and “We Are Never Getting Back Together” is that instead of Taylor centering this around how she’s doing, this is all about his unfulfilled life in her absence. The lines “Chasing make believe status, last time you feel free, was when none of that shit mattered ‘cause you were with me” are brutal, really selling this soft hell that this man now lives in. Taylor is perhaps overplaying her hand by implying that she came from anything less than financier parents, but the song works just because of how vividly scrubby this guy comes across with his empty cynicism.

All of these barbs make the context for the song appropriately dense, but even aside from how all of this will be assimilated by the Swifties, the song itself is better than most of the songs on Red’s original tracklist. This is the furthest she’s embraced country in a long while; Chris Stapleton isn’t given a full spotlight like Phoebe Bridgers was on “Nothing New”, but his croon adds a sort of warmth to this song that admittedly makes it feel more authentic. Meanwhile, Taylor’s spite does not betray the fact that she sounds better than ever here. She’s at the height of her powers at this moment, and the fact that she’s able to tease this kind of satisfaction over an album that’s almost ten years old is deeply admirable. I can only wait to see what’s coming out of the vaults for 1989.