NEW YORK: Taylor Swift’s 12th studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, released Friday, declares that her heir apparent is none other than herself.
Her last album, The Tortured Poets Department, ended with the cautionary “Clara Bow,” an allegory that suggested her tenure atop the cultural mainstream was inherited from stars of the past, such as the name-checked Stevie Nicks — and that a younger generation of female pop performers could soon take her place.
In 2025, there are plenty of candidates: Chappell Roan’s theatrical style, Olivia Rodrigo’s fiery punk-pop feminism, and Sabrina Carpenter’s playful sensuality. But in the knotty themes of Friday’s The Life of a Showgirl, best illustrated in the title track, Swift asserts that the baton has not been passed, but rather shared. She is not going anywhere.
“And all the headshots on the walls / Of the dance halls are of the b------ / Who wish I’d hurry up and die,” she sings with a wink. “But I’m immortal now, baby dolls / I couldn’t if I tried.” Notably, if she has a chosen successor, it is the album’s sole featured guest: Carpenter, who appears on the stomp-clap closer with a newly adopted twang. The mournful lap steel — the album’s most country moment — accompanies Carpenter’s entrance. Country is Swift’s past and Carpenter’s future.
Suggestive bangers and a ‘New Heights’ nod
If Swift is co-signing Carpenter, she is also learning from her. Carpenter has mastered tight pop songs with an edge; Swift mirrors that energy in the George Michael-interpolating “Father Figure” and the funky “Wood.” In the latter, she slyly sings, “His love was the key / That opened my thighs.” She adds, “Girls, I don’t need to catch the bouquet / To know a hard rock is on the way.” Interwoven are sensual ad-libs and a direct reference to fiancé Travis Kelce’s podcast.
Across a brisk 12 tracks — restrained compared to her sprawling double albums — The Life of a Showgirl mostly fulfills its promise of up-tempo pop “bangers.” Fans awaiting Reputation (Taylor’s Version) may hear echoes of its essence here, though filtered through the affection of her Lover era.
As in Reputation, Swift responds to criticisms head-on. On “CANCELLED!” and “Elizabeth Taylor,” she reflects on perception and legacy. “Hollywood hates me / You’re only as hot as your last hit, baby,” she sings. But unlike her past work, love steadies her. “I can’t have fun if I can’t have you,” she flirts.
Welcome (back) to Sweden
For this project, Swift reunited with Swedish producers Max Martin and Shellback, her collaborators on Red, 1989 and Reputation. Absent is frequent partner Jack Antonoff. The shift pays off: A decade ago, Swift, Martin and Shellback’s experiments reshaped not only her career but mainstream pop itself.
While The Life of a Showgirl may not feel seismic, it brims with addictive Swiftisms — wit, literary flourishes and crystalline hooks. Songs like “Opalite” shimmer with layered harmonies and vintage swing. Meanwhile, “The Fate of Ophelia” bursts with 1980s-style synth-pop, echoing Robyn and a touch of Lana Del Rey.
Fans will find quotable gems, too. On “Wi$h Li$t,” she pleads, “Please God bring me a best friend who I think is hot,” before sketching suburban dreams of “a couple kids … a driveway with a basketball hoop.”
The dictionary of a showgirl
Swift’s dense vocabulary dazzles but occasionally overreaches, as in the line-heavy “Father Figure,” where cleverness outpaces cadence. Elsewhere, she leans too trendy, as in “Eldest Daughter,” which references “trolling,” “memes” and “comments,” risking quick obsolescence. Still, its acoustic emo balladry — about “terminal uniqueness” and deep devotion — resonates. It contrasts with “Actually Romantic,” a sharp pop-punk track with echoes of Hayley Williams and boygenius.
Swift has said the album channels her “Eras Tour” — a global phenomenon spanning more than three hours of spectacle. On these 12 songs, she captures that glitz with humanity and humor. She does not linger backstage. The show has already begun.
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