The Life of a Showgirl, The Death of Her Past

As for the low notes, we’re met with a chorus of familiar sounds: “CANCELLED!,” which ascribes the battle cry “Tone-deaf and hot, let’s fuckin’ off her” to her haters, is, ironically, tone-deaf; “Actually Romantic,” apparently the culmination of a low-key beef with Charli XCX, is an obvious rip of Olivia Rodrigo (who herself is no stranger to copycatting accusations); “Elizabeth Taylor” takes us for an dizzying ride on the diphthong express; and the—ahem—suggestive “Wood,” which derives its funkiness from a guitar riff pulled straight from the Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back,” brings new meaning to the phrase “disco stick.” And lastly, the title track, the internet has discovered, sounds startlingly similar to a 2019 Jonas Brothers song, of all things. Featuring Swift’s protege Sabrina Carpenter, it feels surprisingly like an afterthought. Rather than tying Showgirl up with a bow, it’s more likely to prompt a revisit of other, better Swift duets from the last half-decade, like those with HAIM and Phoebe Bridgers, or the juicy pop fare of Carpenter herself.

Everything else lands somewhere in the middle. Opener “The Life of Ophelia” is a starry showtune in search of a “Hamlet” musical (not derogatory). The ballad “Eldest Daughter” speaks to pressure and power but pales in comparison to fellow track fives like “All Too Well,” “Delicate” and “my tears ricochet.” The twinkly “Wi$h Li$t” treads the same thematic ground as Midnights’ “Lavender Haze” (“The only kind of girl they see / Is a one-night or a wife”) but reaches a wholly different conclusion: “We could have a couple kids, got the whole block lookin’ like you.” That’s love for you.

Much like her relationships, Swift’s writing style has evolved throughout her career, particularly in the years since Lover. On folklore, she picked up her “quill” for the first time, spinning intricate tales of fictional characters alongside more familiar takes on her own lore. This new strategy led to some lyrical clumsiness on Midnights, but any missteps were made moot by glittering production. The Tortured Poets’ Department’s absurdities weren’t always as lucky. Its lack of an editor was that record’s biggest flaw. Here, someone was clearly wielding the red pen (in addition to a glitter pen, of course), but the musical mechanics just don’t always click into place. For every “I’ll be your father figure / I drink that brown liquor,” there’s a “Like a toy chihuahua barking at me from a tiny purse / That’s how much it hurts.” The lyrics speak more to champagne problems than kitchen table toiling, but calling Swift “out-of-touch” is as impactful as launching tomatoes at the Eras Tour stage. Of course she’s removed from everyday issues. The subject matter isn’t her stumbling block. “Lyrical hallucination” might be a more apt diagnosis.

While it lacks the immediacy of Swift’s other productions with Martin and Shellback, it’s inaccurate to cast The Life of a Showgirl as a total flop. There’s no such thing in the world of Taylor Swift. It’s another star in the twinkling sky dreamed up by the most popular, and increasingly prolific, artist in the world, and like every record she’s made since “Tim McGraw,” its story is more complicated than a Metacritic number or the sales of a Target-exclusive vinyl variant. She’s in love, she has left behind the toxic men of her past, she’s fresh off the most successful tour in the history of time, and she’s making the music she wants to make. The years chug along, and Swift’s songs—the perfect, imperfect, and even unlovable—stubbornly cling onto our otherwise changing culture. And in our current era (i.e., a seemingly unending circus of doom), Swift’s pop prowess is not an unwelcome constant.

Ellen Johnson is a former Paste music editor and forever pop culture enthusiast. Presently, she’s a full-time editor and part-time writer. You can find her in Atlanta, or rewatching Little Women on Letterboxd.