“You’re only as hot as your last hit, baby” — a line from track two, ‘Elizabeth Taylor’, offering a reflection upon the impermanency of fame that I can only hope proves true for Swift, considering that the only ‘hit’ coming from this particular album is that sensation of being hit by a truck when you realise that the line “I’m not a bad b*tch, and this isn’t savage” made the final cut.
Indeed, The Life of a Showgirl entirely operates as a microcosm of everything I’ve been defending Swift against accusations of for the past five years; perfectly mediocre songwriting, a borderline allergic impediment to melody (try listening to the pre-chorus of ‘Wi$h Li$t’ without wincing), and overly millennial references that surely can only result from Taylor scouring the #trending page on TikTok in hopes of relating to her younger audience. As a whole, on its best day the album may suffice to be played as mere background music — ‘The Fate of Ophelia’ particularly would be killer when combined with a treadmill — yet, when coming from not only an album which promised “show business” and “some of [Swift’s] best tricks”, but an artist who typically promises very little less than perfection in her craft, the disappointment at hand is a little bit soul-crushing.
For this album really could’ve been great; in truth, many of the tracks are bursting with potential easily realised with a bit more time spent at the drawing board, but instead left out to dry for the sake of a swift album release. Take ‘The Life of a Showgirl [feat. Sabrina Carpenter]’ for instance; a collaboration surely incapable of flopping when two of the music industry’s leading artists and their respective genii are combined. If the track’s intent was to offer a compelling insight into the life of fame, it certainly followed through, centralising the copyright rampant in the music industry with the track’s near identical alignment to the Jonas Brothers’ 2019 song ‘Cool’ — though, we ought to thank this blatant imitation for ensuring at least some of the tracks don’t sound entirely AI written. Indeed, rather than that business that we call show, it was lazy songwriting that took centre stage in this particular album, accompanied by pettiness in the case of ‘Actually Romantic’ (largely speculated to be aimed at Charli XCX in retort to her 2024 track ‘Sympathy is a knife’), in which Swift’s patronising comparison of “a toy chihuahua barking at me” seems actually mean compared to Charli’s own lyrics admitting “this one girl taps my insecurities”.
But maybe, like Taylor, I’m being too harsh. As many dedicated fans, both from my friend group and Instagram followed alike, have argued, this album brings with it a sense of camp fun that both Taylor and Swifties ultimately deserve after the turmoil of ‘The Tortured Poets Department’ and a failed Matty Healy situationship – arguing yes, the album isn’t perfect, but that’s where its true appeal lies. I suppose this is somewhat credible when regarding the less awful and more tolerable tracks of ‘Opalite’ and ‘Wood’ for instance, stirring a sense of fun and danceability actually deserving of a spot on the charts and your playlist.
Yet, these are exceptions on an album whose rule largely treads an incredibly fine line between camp and millennial cringe — and often oversteps this to “girlboss too close to the sun” (a real lyric from ‘CANCELLED!’ which deserves expulsion from the internet). Unless Swift’s true intent was to illustrate that the life of a showgirl behind the scenes really is just as flat and uninspiring as these lyrics, she falls short of achieving any particular punch with an album release that feels more like a first draft, and certainly won’t be beating the “Boring Barbie” accusations any time soon.
Photo by Stephen Mease on Unsplash