Taylor Swift has all the neuroticism of the deeply self-disciplined. Like Michael Jordan, she dominates her peers, charms when she wants to charm, and mostly hides1 the kind of competitive streak that nice people swerve to avoid. Her greatest gifts are her self- and social awarenesses — knowing which parts of her rare personality almost everyone can relate to.
But Swift also clearly needs the studio, in a way that few people who reached this level of fame have ever needed anything you can legally acquire. Still only 35-years-old, The Life of a Showgirl is her 12th studio album and the fifth in a five-year-span. Post-engagement, post-record-setting tour, and with no plans to tour again any time soon, The Life of a Showgirl unfolds like a breathless vent to a friend, with alternating spurts of warmth, nostalgia, anxious searching, and teeth-baring sneers.
Despite the backup dancer aesthetic — somewhere between the old Ziegfield Follies and 1995’s Showgirls — the songs acutely center life as a superstar. One of the better tunes is “Elizabeth Taylor,” an earnest expression of love cheekily framed around the eight-time-married icon.
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“That view of Portofino was on my mind when you called me at the Plaza Athénée,” she begins, “Ooh-ooh, oftentimes it doesn’t feel so glamorous to be me.” These are not the troubles of underpaid dancers sprinting backstage to their next quick change, but that’s showbiz, baby. The dramatic keys and grooving bass line (courtesy of ageless hitmakers Max Martin and Shellback) drape the earworm in old-school, pre-TikTok glam.
Unsurprisingly, Swift’s thoughts keep swooning back to her fiancé, future NFL Hall of Famer Travis Kelce. “Opalite” and “Wi$h Li$t” recall her Lover era, one with anxiety and the other with satire, both building to a fine but forgettable hook. On “Wood,” she takes a swing-and-a-miss at the kind of dirty ditties Amy Allen has been penning for Sabrina Carpenter. “Forgive me, it sounds cocky,” she sings, practically panting. “He ah-matized me and opened my еyes/ Redwood tree, it ain’t hard to see/ His love was thе key that opened my thighs.” Lyric-lovers won’t be impressed by some of these single-entendres, but remember, she’s not touring this one, and “Wood” was surely a hit for its audience of one.
At other times, she channels the same, uh, underdog energy that Travis Kelce claimed in February 2023, when he said nobody believed in the Kansas City Chiefs after the dynasty won its second Super Bowl. On “CANCELLED!,” music’s biggest superstar aligns herself with slandered outcasts, and with “Actually Romantic,” she unleashes an avalanche of pent-up resentment.2 Nobody is more mainstream than Taylor Swift, and these days when she punches, she can only go down. But there’s no denying the energy she brings to these tracks.
“CANCELLED!” is a foot-stomper with playful lyrics that sound better than they read. “Did you girlboss too close to the sun?” is delivered tongue-in-cheek; it’s memorable in the way that “Hurry up with my damn croissants” landed with a boom. And whole data centers will be devoted to the discourse around “Actually Romantic,” a diss over a familiar chord progression3 allegedly aimed at Charli XCX.
I heard you call me “Boring Barbie” when the coke’s got you brave
High-fived my ex and then you said you’re glad he ghosted me
Wrote me a song sayin’ it makes you sick to see my face
Some people might be offended
This is not supposed to be worked out on the remix, it’s more of a “Euphoria” burning of a bridge. And while Swift is no stranger to the kiss-off diss, “Actually Romantic” feels more than a bit indebted to the honesty in those other artist’s tracks — “Dear John” had nowhere near this much bite. Some people may not like this side of Swift, but as she’s quick to point out, she doesn’t care. With a sarcastic vocal slide for the subject’s cocaine use, she seems to ask, how could you be so undisciplined, why would any person spend time on that?
Her experiments in provocative lyrics bring mixed results. “Father Figure” is one of the occasional Swift songs with male narrators, and this time the intention is menacing. She sings to a young person, possibly herself, possibly from the perspective of the man who bought her masters, Scooter Braun: “I’ll be your father figure/ I drink that brown liquor/ I can make deals with the devil because my dick’s bigger.” Martin and Shellback’s oil-slick production doesn’t serve the anger in the song, and not all of the barbs land. But it’s nicely warmed by six years of smoldering rage.
The rest of the project could have used more of that spite, or anything else with a bit of an edge. “Elder Daughter” suffers from a lack of specificity. She sings how, “Every eldest daughter/ Was the first lamb to the slaughter/ So we all dressed up as wolves and we looked fire,” grandiose and vague at the same time. It’s more of a meme than a mood, and it’s followed by “Ruin the Friendship,” pretty and sad and forgettable. It’s easy to imagine some vinyl users skipping early to disc two.
Closer “The Life of a Showgirl” is a surprisingly limp summary, with lyrics following Kitty who “Made her money being pretty and witty/ They gave her the keys to this city/ Then they said she didn’t do it legitly, oh!”
It’s a disappointing “oh!,” and it highlights a persistent problem. Some of Swift’s previous producers might have pushed for vocal takes with real pain in them, but in Martin and Shellback’s neat arrangement, she almost swallows the word. For an album called The Life of a Showgirl, there aren’t too many theatrics.
The chorus of the title track presents a bland mystery — “You don’t know the life of a show girl/ And you’re never, ever gonna” — but not much that would help us care. In the end, the project gets lost in its own metaphor, with Swift playing a showgirl who’s playing Swift playing a showgirl — while none of them have a thing to say. Despite some irresistible melodies, the album fades to an unremarkable end.
The Life of a Showgirl promises vulnerability and occasionally delivers. But Swift can’t quite commit to the bit. She’s too famous, too successful, too Taylor Swift to either disappear into the character or let us hear her own dark thoughts. Too often, it’s only skin deep.
1 Deceptively edited or not, the Kardashian recording of her conversation with Kanye West showed off her knowledge of her own numbers, as well as her willingness to use those numbers to club Ye whenever he said something condescending
2 In this narrow way it is a little reminiscent of a certain political figure, but everyone will get mad if I say which one
3 The song uses a I vi III IV progression familiar from Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” and a bunch of other songs. Max Martin and Shellback are known for hooks you can’t get out of your head, not originality.
4 If she’s the Jordan of stadium ticket sales, Lorde and Charli XCX give off a Shaq and Charles Barkley buddy vibe. They’re not quite friends, but they’re fun together.
