Last Friday, global superstar and musician Taylor Swift released her twelfth and heavily anticipated studio album, “The Life of a Showgirl,” sparking chaos and criticism online.
The pop, soft-rock album pulls inspiration from her two-year-long global tour “The Eras Tour,” which spanned 157 stops, 51 cities, 21 countries and five continents. In 12 songs, Swift unpacks stardom, love and her life as a showgirl.
While garnering 139 million global streams on Spotify, the responses have been mixed.
It is important to acknowledge that I have long been a fan of Swift, to the extent of owning multiple albums on vinyl and countless streaming minutes on Spotify. She’s a favorite of mine.
So, it pains me to admit that I don’t love this album. I found it to be one of her weaker albums.
While the glitzy and glamorous visuals of a showgirl’s allure are exactly my vibe, as well as its production by fan favorites Max Martin and Shellback, who previously worked with Swift on “1989,” I found the album lacking the lyricism and storytelling that had become a signature.
The songs are simplistic in nature and straightforward in their lyrics.
However, I hardly think a pop star writing a pop album is a sign of the death of intellectualism, like some have said on social media. And if it is a sign, then I’m in trouble, because I enjoyed most parts of the album.
The lead song, “The Fate of Ophelia,” is, in my opinion, the strongest song of the album, with the accompanying music video being one of her best. Written and directed by Swift, the video showcases the many inspirations of the song and album.
From the muses and models of pre-Raphaelite paintings to flapper girls, Shakespearean performers and Marilyn Monroe, Swift pays homage to women throughout history who have been showgirls.
The song’s lyrics mix Shakespearean language with modern slang for a joyful and celebratory love song. The same can be said for the songs “Opalite,” which is infused with the signature lyricism fans have become familiar with, as well as the innuendo-filled “Wood,” which was cheeky.
The strength of this album is its excitement; it doesn’t take itself too seriously.
As a long-time listener, this is new for Swift. Her previous albums, “The Tortured Poets Department” and “Midnights,” were intensive concept albums that unpacked emotional periods of Swift’s life.
However, I cannot defend “Eldest Daughter.” While I agree with her criticism of the lack of authenticity on social media, I cannot abide by her lyrics. To be frank, I burst out laughing at the chorus “I’m not a bad b-tch/ And this isn’t savage.”
It makes you cringe, but it’s not a crime against nature for a millennial like Swift to infuse some of her humor into a song. I would just prefer if she left out the dated internet terminology from what could have been a powerful ballad.
Overall, the faults of this album did not ruin it for me; albums can be fun and silly, and not have anything more profound to say than there is beauty and silliness when being in love.
I would argue that the album doesn’t have to be for everyone; musicians shouldn’t have to cater to every taste and critique. If you don’t like pop music or Swift’s music, you don’t have to listen to it.
Just like I don’t have to listen to “Eldest daughter” when enjoying the rest of this silly and entertaining album.
