Ever since the release of ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version)’, Taylor Swift has more or less embraced what critic Lindsay Zoladz, writing about the 2021 version of the track, called “unapologetic messiness.” If Midnights was aesthetically messy, The Tortured Poets Department was downright chaotic. Taylor Swift is not getting any more apologetic, but in The Life of a Showgirl, she attempts, with help from Swedish production duo Max Martin and Shellback, to offer a leaner, more focused record with fewer tracks than it has variants. There is a tight, smart, tender pop record hidden in there, but as a whole, it feels perfunctory and terminally front-loaded, almost every song on the back half undermining its charmful beginnings – the album starts to lend artistic heft to her honeymoon era, then spends too much time revisiting well-trodden ground. “You don’t know the life of a showgirl, babe,” Swift sings, curating another ostensibly flawless, actually messy glimpse of it.
1. The Fate of Ophelia
If The Life of a Showgirl is essentially an album about feeling safe in the hands of love, the opening track is Swift’s most compelling attempt at extolling its virtues – a bold choice for a hit single, which it inevitably will be, but also a promising introduction to a vision that the rest of the songs barely expand. By reclaiming Shakespeare’s tragic heroine, Swift reframes and forges on from the self-maddening pretensions and melancholy overtones of The Tortured Poets Department, throwing in a wistful piano-driven bridge to herald the transformation. The plodding, somewhat jumbled verses could use some of the glitz and glamor of the chorus, which is infectious enough to sell lines like “Pledged allegiance to your hands, your team, your vibes” that would scan as cringey elsewhere.
2. Elizabeth Taylor
“What could you possibly get for the girl who has everything and nothing all at once?” Swift sings, the heaviest line on a track that doesn’t carry the same weight as a ‘Clara Bow’ – it’s more in line with Reputation’s ‘Don’t Blame Me’, a familiar meditation on the intersection of fame and romance that really pops in the chorus, though the programmed strings are tastefully incorporated throughout. “You’re only as hot as your last hit, baby,” she quips, trying to both ride off the steam of TTPD and move past its melodrama.
3. Opalite
It’s no wonder the album’s breeziest song is also one of its best, a reminder that Swift’s low-stakes, shimmery pop-rock tunes often end up having the most replay value. (‘Paper Rings’ fans will find a lot to like in this one.) The production is reminiscent of Jack Antonoff’s work on the latest Sabrina Carpenter album, but even without his presence or Carpenter’s cheekiness, her sincerity shines through. It didn’t need the “Whoa-a-a-a-oh” to be an earworm, but that’s the cherry on top.
4. Father Figure
Swift told her fiancé’s podcast that she’s “the business of human emotion,” and here she declares that “this love is pure profit.” Apart from the song’s interpolation of a George Michael song (which is barely perceptible), the line that has most people talking is “I can make deals with the devil/ Because my dick’s bigger.” It may be weird on the surface, but ‘Father Figure’ rewards closer listening. Though once again familiar territory, it stands out for the meaning Swift sneaks in between the jokes and warnings, deploying a woozy, ethereal arrangement that, like her lyrics, sharpen right when they need to – introducing a sturdy bassline just as she prepares for battle, changing key as she climbs the ladder. There’s no doubt she means business, but there’s real feeling underneath.
5. Eldest Daughter
A stripped-back companion to ‘Father Figure’, the song leans into vulnerability and childhood nostalgia as it bemoans internet bullies and apathetic memes – Swift sounds tired, which is enough to warrant a reality check. “I’m not a bad bitch, and this isn’t savage,” she admits, reminding herself of past innocence and trauma, a time when trampolines, ferris wheels, and kisses were worth more trouble than mean comments. It’s proof that Swift’s piano ballads can sound enlightening, not just sad folkmore retreads.
6. Ruin the Friendship
‘Ruin the Friendship’ runs off of some of the nostalgia of the previous track but locks in on Swift’s storytelling, a strength that’s underutilized on most of Showgirl. She has every right to write songs about being happy now, but her distance from the past seems to invite some of her most evocative and well-rounded lyrics, not to mention the album’s most impassioned vocal performance. Like TTPD’s ‘But Daddy I Love Him’, its country-pop directness renders it a highlight, even if it’s way more understated and regretful.
7. Actually Romantic
If The Life of a Showgirl was cut in half, the first part would arguably make for Swift’s strongest post-pandemic album; everything leading up to ‘Actually Romantic’ is decent to pretty great, and there’s a sense of continuity to it. But it gives me no pleasure to say that it all goes downhill from here. The most striking element of ‘Sympathy Is a Knife’, the reason it’s one of Charli XCX’s best songs, is how revealing and exasperated it is, its edginess spiraling inward. But ‘Actually Romantic’, an apparent response to that song, is hollow, spiteful, and childish, watering down the chord progression from ‘Where Is My Mind?’ (the Pixies sure deserved a writing credit, or Weezer for that matter) as if scrambled together at the last minute. Of course she undercuts herself by singing “I mind my business, God’s my witness that I don’t provoke it,” before proceeding to inform us that it’s making her wet. Weird how it’s been a few since we had a song about Travis.
8. Wi$h Li$t
Though not nearly as embarrassing as ‘Actually Romantic’, ‘Wi$h Li$t’ is actually, well, romantic: a pretty agreeable love song about reaching for a simple, normal life in a world obsessed with material pursuits. Coming from Swift, of course, it scans as fantasy, one in which everyone looks like Travis Kelce for some reason. That’s all well and cute, but it only makes ‘Lavender Haze’ hit harder in retrospect.
9. Wood
You probably know that this is the song that contains the line “His love was the key that opened my thighs.” But it’s hard to believe, when you actually listen to it, that it’s repeated multiple times, coming back twice at the end of the song. As if that is the killer lyric! As if ‘Wi$h Li$t’ was too inoffensive for Swift not to go back to being sexually, uh, explicit and winking at the audience. It’s odd that this is not the song with the Sabrina Carpenter feature, but Swift alone doing the tongue-in-cheek thing just falls flat. At least she credits the Jackson 5, right? Right?
10. CANCELLED!
Swift may be addressing different controversies this time around, but ‘CANCELLED!’ recycles the vitriol of some of the most memorable Reputation and TTPD tracks without adding anything new to the table. There’s punch to the production, but it is, still, punching down, and without the impact of even the quietest song on this very album. “Did you girlboss too close to the sun?/ Did they catch you having far too much fun?” she asks, but Showgirl’s trajectory makes you wonder if she caught herself.
11. Honey
It’s sweet that the nicknames that used to sound derogatory are now filled with love, but the sentiment quickly wears thin, even if the subtly vibrant instrumentation sounds quite pleasant over a trap beat. It could use a fun twist.
12. The Life of a Showgirl [feat. Sabrina Carpenter]
The title track makes for a lackluster closer, an end-credits song for an album that barely had a finale, feeling instead more like a culmination of the Eras Tour. The record has a clear beginning, middle – and then it falls off. This is also one of her weaker duets; not too long ago, Swift wrote from the perspective of an aging star watching another one on the rise, and sang, alongside Phoebe Bridgers, “She’ll know the way and then she’ll say she got the map from me/ I’ll say I’m happy for her, then I’ll cry myself to sleep.” The superstar here is confident in her estrangement as much as her immortality. “Now I’m making money being pretty and witty,” she and Carpenter sing at different points, as if “business of emotion” didn’t sound cynical enough. Despite its emotional range and sincerity, it makes both the lovely and messy parts of an incomparable life seem all too transactional.
