A non-swiftie pontificates on ‘The Life of a Showgirl’

By Sarah Berger ’27 

Section Editor 

If you’ve been online recently, chances are you’ve seen something about Taylor Swift’s “The Life of a Showgirl,” which has been incredibly negatively received. Since Swift is so popular, I was curious if her new album was as bad as everyone was saying, or if it was simply a case of expectations that were too high. 

The cards on the table: Although I don’t listen to Swift’s music, I occasionally read r/travisandtaylor and r/Swiftlyneutral on Reddit. As someone born in the 2000s, I’m familiar with her general lore, and I’ve enjoyed some of her hits. Since then, I’ve come to find her over-saturation grating, as well as her occasional presence around my hometown. Still, I set this aside, resigned myself to giving Swift the tenths of pennies that my stream would inevitably generate, and pressed play. 

I was pleasantly surprised by “The Fate of Ophelia.” It’s catchy. I found the references to Travis Kelce’s team cringey, but it was a decent song, and it certainly wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. “Elizabeth Taylor” was the same. It was catchy and upbeat, and although it’s not a song I would choose to go back to, it didn’t strike me as particularly bad. 

It was while listening to “Opalite” that I began to notice the lyricism, which is less than stellar. The metaphors conjure an idea of what she’s talking about, but they’re sloppy. “She was in her phone / and you were just a pose / and don’t we try to love love?” “Father Figure” began to lose me. Perhaps it’s because I’m not familiar with the lore Swift has built around herself, but I was confused regarding what the song was actually about. 

By "Eldest Daughter” I was tapped out. The song begins with Swift talking about how the internet brings out the worst in people. I have a personal vendetta against mentioning the internet in music. Not because it has to be bad, but because it somehow always is. The song itself is fine, but it’s hard to appreciate it over the repeated croons of “I’m not a bad bitch / and this isn’t savage.” 

“Ruin the Friendship” was the first song I actually thought was bad. It reminded me of something a singer/songwriter might release early in their career and heavily promote on Instagram, which is fine for them, but when it’s a billionaire on her 12th album, it feels a little different. “Actually Romantic” continued the decline. The song focuses on how Swift doesn’t care about the drama people create about her. If she doesn’t care, it seems strange and petty to write a song about it. 

I can respect that she’s made sharing her life her brand, even if her life was never my cup of tea. A lot of the content on her early albums focused on her desire for a simple romance. However, the aspirational mundanity rings hollow when she can’t keep it up. One moment, she’s saying that she wants to “have a couple kids” and a “driveway with a basketball hoop” and differentiating herself from people who want “bright lights and Balenci shades / And a fat ass with a baby face.” The next, she likes her friends “cloaked in Gucci and scandal.” 

The whole album is at once an ode to getting what she’s wanted and a complaint that she ever had to face adversity in the past, and the two don’t mix very well. This is exemplified by “Honey” where she writes; “And when anyone called me ‘Lovely’ / They were finding ways not to praise me / But you say it like you’re in awe of me”. I understand what she’s trying to say because as a female artist, it’s incredibly irritating to only be praised for your looks. However, it is merely irritating, it doesn’t merit a song or a mention. If the worst thing that someone’s said about you is that you’re a “Boring Barbie,” who cares? You’re a billionaire. That’s sort of the issue with the whole album. Someone on the way to getting everything they’ve wanted shouldn’t be obsessed with past slights. 

The cultural context matters here as well. Swift has built her empire partially off of her womanhood, which is exemplified on “The Life of a Showgirl.” But post-Eras tour, her identity is more than just womanhood. It’s capitalist, billionaire, and sure, showgirl. 

On the day Swift announced her engagement to Travis Kelce, Israel bombed a hospital in Gaza. Swift did not speak about it, and her engagement was the primary news story of that day. In addition to her silence on most global issues, Swift fails to acknowledge that her position in life is better than the vast majority of the population. In fact, her album overfocuses on slights that most people can’t afford to consider. When she acknowledges her success, it’s flippant bragging. Even her fantasies are presented in contrast to the less worthy desires of other people. As a longtime observer of her success, I’ve never been so confounded by it. 

Eliza Cline ’27 contributed fact-checking.