Taylor Swift’s twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, released on Oct. 3, is a mid-range standing collection of songs based on the behind-the-scenes of the pop star’s mind and life following her shows during the Eras Tour, which was ongoing while the album was being curated.
The buildup
In her appearance on her fiancé’s podcast, “New Heights,” hosted by Kansas City Chiefs’ Travis Kelce and his brother Jason Kelce, Swift announced The Life of a Showgirl. She shared that she had been working on the album during the Eras Tour with Max Martin and Shellback, who were responsible for some of her most recognizable hits from 1989 and Reputation.
Coming off a critically acclaimed album, Ariana Grande’s Eternal Sunshine, Martin and his brand were bound to have had some high expectations attached to it. Swift described her album as a “catching lightning in a bottle” moment for her and the producers, paired with a personal claim that the body of work resulted in the “best ideas they’ve ever had.” Unfortunately, for some, those expectations were shoved to the pits of nothingness.
Overture
Opening the curtains for the show, “The Fate of Ophelia” reckons the album as a departure from the synth-pop sound Swift had grown accustomed to from her past two pop albums, Midnights and The Tortured Poets Department. Sporting a groovier tune, its chorus about salvation from a destined doom, opposite the tragic end of Ophelia from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, foretells the theme of the majority of the songs from the record—love and fame.
The second half of the chorus introduces a smooth-flowing hook accentuated by an upbeat instrumental, further elevating the piece. However, the song falters in comparison to former album openers like Fearless’ title track, “The 1” from Folklore, and “State of Grace” from Red, which not only encapsulate the albums’ sonic and lyrical direction but also have more replay value.
Following this, “Elizabeth Taylor” and “Opalite” complete a decently placed three-track run. The former circles back to themes of the first song, with a nifty bassline and a delightful set of strings that enrich the overall dark Reputation-esque sound. On the other hand, the latter switches the vibe with a disco-like arrangement and, arguably, wields one of the catchier melodic lines of the album.
These songs, albeit decent to good in their own right, already reveal issues throughout the tracklist. Thematically and lyrically, certain songs don’t make any attempts to push boundaries. With love and fame at the center, it’s difficult to express a thought that the singer-songwriter hasn’t sung before. Past works such as “I Know Places” from 1989 and “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” from Reputation convey the struggles of love and stardom with a more skillful production and effective narrative.
Additionally, Swift often undercuts her own performances by relying on a breathy head voice for much of the choruses. Her lack of commitment to belting moments in certain big tracks makes the buildup from most of her bridges head towards a subpar to slightly whelming final chorus—as opposed to her tantalizing former pop songs like “Wildest Dreams” and “Don’t Blame Me.”
Where it went right
Halfway through the tracklist, “Ruin the Friendship” departs from the established lyrical notions of the album—one of the better choices, as it makes it a standout. Bringing back a slight groove, the laid-back production highlights the storytelling that Swift told fans to expect from the album.
“Ruin the Friendship” is treated as a partner song to “Forever Winter” from Red (Taylor’s Version)—both confronting the lingering hardships and what-ifs that emerge after losing a loved one. The slightly lively production contrasts with the gut-wrenching reveal in the bridge—that the song pertains to someone she believes she could have done more for, alluding to her self-condemnation on things beyond her control.
The song is heartbreakingly honest and melancholic. Touching upon grief, the song does what a few songs on the album couldn’t—express profoundness and relatability. The recontexualized lyric, “It was not an invitation,” in the final stretch is more than enough to spotlight the lyrical prowess that Swift possesses.
However, to its detriment, other parts of the album fail to mirror the magic that “Ruin the Friendship” had.
Glitz Without the Glam
“CANCELLED!” succeeds production-wise, but her pen game sometimes stumbles whenever she attempts to make a comeback at her critics. The song targets her friends’ detractors, suggesting that their haters are equally flawed—but it’s an unconvincing stance. “Everyone’s got bodies in their attic or took somebody’s man” is hardly the point anyone would want to make when defending others’ mistakes.
Track 5, “Eldest Daughter,” left some fans questioning its place in the album. Track 5s—as most Swifties would know—are typically reserved for songs where Taylor positions herself into introspective vulnerability. Though one could see where Taylor is going with “Eldest Daughter,” it’s difficult to look past some of the awkward lyricism and unrefined narration. The line “I’m not a bad b*tch and this isn’t savage” on an acoustic ballad doesn’t ring the right bells.
However, the bridge compensates for this, as it reflects on the growth from her former ideology, which is that an everlasting love is but a mere child’s fantasy. After 11 full-length albums that retell the same fates she’s succumbed to from the hands of her lovers, her genuine resilience in hoping to find the right person is not something to gawk at with ridicule. Rather, it presents her humanity—she is just as fragile as anyone else.
The remaining songs in the album may not command as much attention, yet some do hold their own merits. In particular, “Actually Romantic,” when viewed separately from public speculation about its inspiration, Charli XCX, is a tongue-in-cheek, competently written, gritty pop-rock moment that turns the tables on the “obsessed hater” narrative.
Curtain call
For her final act, Taylor brings out Sabrina Carpenter on the title track. This, unfortunately, was a misstep for the pop mother–pop daughter duo. The persisting percussion pattern, reminiscent of an overdone 2010s production style, did no wonders for the story, which was better told in a former work, “The Lucky One” from Red.
A missed opportunity was for the feature to be placed on “Wood,” a song with double entendres that perfectly fit Sabrina’s brand. Coming off of “House Tour” from Man’s Bestfriend, which was brimming with sexual innuendos, the overlooked potential for a collaboration on a phallic symbolism–driven song certainly leads to many missed outcomes.
Overall, the album doesn’t do anything overtly revolutionary, to say the least. Nor does it do anything too offensive to consider it the worst. It’s a middle-of-the-pack catalogue of songs, where some could have definitely spent more time baking in the oven.
Standout tracks:
“Ruin the Friendship”
“Elizabeth Taylor”
“Opalite”
