6/10
Taylor Swift’s twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, arrived with the popstar’s signature choreography and epic anticipation, featuring the album cover reveal on her fiancé Travis Kelce’s New Heights podcast. The album features a subsequent marketing machine made up of easter-eggs, TikTok effects, and green and orange sparkles, culminating in the Official Release Party across 540 movie theater screens.
Swifties everywhere were heralding a new era. With the abrupt shift from the black-and-white photography of albums past to all that glitter, feathers, and rhinestones, the packaging promised the return to infectious pop bangers.
However, the album feels less innovative and more about Swift embracing a happier, less angst-ridden, far less complicated joy than anything she’s released before. While Swift is unarguably an amazing lyricist and vocalist, and we should all be over the moon for her newfound love, one might wonder if The Life of a Showgirl is just a forced, unnecessary, and too-quickly produced project?
Swift reunited with producing team Max Martin and Shellback after an eight-year hiatus in Jack Antonoff’s studio and presented her fans with an album inspired by the glitz and work behind the curtain of the Eras Tour. The result is a 12-track pop-rock record that intends to deliver catchy, celebratory energy and aims to chart new territory with original, exciting sonic turns.
The Life of a Showgirl isn’t a new musical direction, the way Reputation or Folklore were. Instead, it explores romantic love, the kind that is drama-free, mature, and refreshingly stable. The newfound confidence still features the shade and diss lyrics her fans have come to expect, but confrontation is no longer the main course.
The album begins with a lively, inviting beat, featuring Swift’s timeless and elegant voice that incorporates elements of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, featuring the story of a destructive romance with young lovers Ophelia and Hamlet. Swift’s twist on the classic is surprisingly catchy, while maintaining an eclectic rhythm that gives the album its sing-along tone. “’Tis locked inside my memory / And only you possess the key / No longer drowning and deceived / All because you came for me,” she sings.
The album really kicks in with the third track, “Opalite,” an optimistic anthem with a solid chorus. It’s a simpler song on the album, but still manages to be strong and catchy. Swifties know an opal is Taylor’s favorite gemstone, not surprisingly, the birthstone of her fiancé, and his favorite song on the new album. Lyrically, the track speaks of two people healing from past relationships and finding resilience with each other, ultimately choosing their own happiness: “Never met no one like you before / You had to make your own sunshine / But now the sky is opalite, oh-oh, oh, oh, oh oh,” Swift sings.
The most obvious diss track is “Father Figure” in the middle of the album. Utilizing George Michael’s title and chorus, Swift takes a dig at her previous representation, promising he’ll get his, as it were. “You pulled the wrong trigger / This empire belongs to me,” referencing her famous reunion with her catalogue of music. Meanwhile, “CANCELLED!” is reminiscent of “Look What You Made Me Do,” updated for the social media age of “cancel culture,” where Swift faces relentless criticism and backlash on every aspect of her personal life. Its sharp production and pounding beats make the song as powerful sonically as it is thematically, proving to be a favorite across Swifties alike. “It’s easy to love you when you’re popular / The optics click, everyone prospers / But one single drop, you’re off the roster,” she sings.
Martin and Shellback’s production, with Swift as an active co-producer, renders songs that feel overly simple. Most songs drop the instrumentation for long stretches, creating a record that ironically is most engaging when a little more stripped down. This makes the second track, “Elizabeth Taylor,” shifts gears—its sonically dramatic, drum-packed production best captures the “showgirl” aesthetic, à la Reputation. The orchestral elements channel old-Hollywood glamour, while the strong beats give the song a sense of power and momentum. Lyrically, it reflects Taylor’s legacy as a metaphor for fame, and the performance of identity under a constant spotlight.
“Wood” is best understood as Swift’s ode to her fiancé. Short, yet (extremely) sweet, the track dives into an unfiltered, raw exposition of Swift’s love life. While Swift claimed the original intent of the song remained innocent, her bold lyrics say otherwise—claiming the title as her most raunchy song yet. “Honey” is another brief tribute to Kelce, but instead incorporates a cheerful tune and more lighthearted lyrics than the explicit diction in “Wood.” The song is immediately catchy, but quickly loses engagement through Swift’s underdeveloped lyrics.
While “Wi$h Li$t” recklessly throws in erotic phrases, the lyrics hint at Swift’s wish to have an agency of privacy with her simple wishes: Kelce and a “couple of kids.” The humming vocals draw away from Swift’s flimsy lyrics, making the song a bit more fanatical and reminiscent of the classic “teenage dream” than an actual glimpse into her aspirations for her future as a newlywed.
The Life of a Showgirl features the first—and hopefully not the last—of a harmonious collaboration between Swift and singer-songwriter Sabrina Carpenter. Narrating the quiet struggles of enduring the backstage popstar life, the song treads along the story of Kitty, a figurative popstar. Swift’s metaphorical play is unusual, yet extraordinary: “The Life of a Showgirl” easily melts whimsical sprechstimme-singing with playful irony. “I took her pearls of wisdom / Hung them from my neck / Paid my dues with every bruise / I knew what to expect,” Swift sings. Carpenter takes over the second verse, continuing Swift’s uplifting tone before the tempo quickens into a candid, fast-paced portion about the hidden costs of fame. The song is effortlessly magical and carefree, and the perfect representation of Swift’s exposure under the spotlight.
The Life of a Showgirl is a gift to Swifties who love seeing their idol in her heart-eyes era: engaged and putting out happy, unapologetic tunes. It’s a celebration of love and fame without the shadow of angst that typically lingers in her music. Yet, while the album shines with undeniable warmth and sing-along tunes, it occasionally lacks lyrical depth and emotional breadth. While it may not reach the lyrical intimacy of Folklore, Red, or even 1989, The Life of a Showgirl thrives on its own as a well-made look into the life of a superstar enjoying love and lust. Maybe, just maybe, the real issue is that it’s hard to choose from twelve strong albums spanning so many eras.
