“The Life of a Showgirl”: An Album Review
The leaves are turning orange and the lights are dimming. A new season has sprung — and no, it’s not fall; it’s “The Life of a Showgirl.”
by Chloe Rudnick ★ October 21st, 2025
Design by: Sophie Rottenberg
As you’ve probably felt—from the way the world seems to tilt whenever Taylor Swift drops a record—her 12th studio album has made its grand debut on streaming platforms (and even movie screens). According to Billboard, the album earned 3.5 million equivalent album units in its first week, surpassing Adele’s “25” and breaking a decade-old streaming-era record—one of the largest single-week figures in modern music history.
Created in Sweden between stops on The Eras Tour, Swift reunited with longtime collaborators Max Martin and Shellback—the same powerhouse producers behind “1989.” Together, they recaptured the shimmering pop precision of that era while adding a more grounded edge.
My main observation: This album has captured listeners’ attention so completely that Swift has managed to silence the question that usually follows any of her releases—what’s next? There’s no buzz about another tour or speculation about a 13th album. For once, everyone’s staying present. And that, I think, is the real magic of the record.
As Swift told BBC Radio, “I have such uncomplicated feelings of joy about it, which is not how I felt about the last album. I don’t feel any twisty, tortured way about it. There’s such a lag when you make music and put it out—oftentimes your life can change drastically in that time. With this album, my life is in exactly the same spot as when I wrote the record.” And you can tell.
The Breakdown
The album opens with “The Fate of Ophelia,” an ode to Shakespeare’s tragic heroine. Swift reflects on life in the spotlight—and how Kelce helped anchor her through it—singing, “You saved my heart from the fate of Ophelia.” The melody is infectious, and as she told Jimmy Fallon, she “felt the same rush” writing it as she did when crafting the chorus to “You Belong With Me.” The accompanying music video debuted on the big screen during “The Official Release Party of a Showgirl,” earning $34 million in U.S. ticket sales and featuring a dance sequence that’s already gone viral on TikTok. And of course, the video is packed with more than 100 Easter eggs—because what’s a Taylor Swift rollout without a little detective work?
Similarly, “Elizabeth Taylor” draws from another iconic muse—the show woman herself. “Oftentimes it doesn’t feel so glamorous to be me,” Swift confesses, acknowledging the disconnect between public perception and personal reality. The track captures that tension beautifully, letting listeners peek behind the curtain to see the layers beneath the sparkle.
That exploration of identity through influence continues on “Father Figure,” which interpolates George Michael’s song of the same name—a rare move for Swift, who’s only ever sprinkled a few samples and interpolations across her catalog. My favorite line: “They want to see you rise / They don’t want you to reign.”
Of course, it wouldn’t be a Taylor Swift release without a little clapback—and Swift’s response is perfectly on brand: “If it’s the first week of my album release and you’re saying either my name or my album title, you’re helping.”
The Echo Chamber
Some listeners have called the record lyrically flat, particularly in songs like “Eldest Daughter,” where Swift sings, “’Cause I’m not a bad bitch / And this isn’t savage.” But that, I think, is exactly what makes it special. The album plays almost like a double record—you can take it at face value and enjoy it for what it is, or lean in and uncover the emotional depth Swift fans have come to expect.
The peanut gallery’s favorite example? “Wood.” Sure, if you take lyrics like “Redwood tree / It ain’t hard to see / His love was the key / That opened my thighs” at face value, they might sound blunt. But look closer and you’ll find its meaning rooted in confidence, not shock value. When she sings, “I ain’t got to knock on wood,” she’s not being crass; she’s expressing security in love—the kind that doesn’t depend on luck or longing. Any surprise from listeners likely comes from familiarity—fans are used to hearing her wrestle with insecurity and yearning. This time, she’s not begging for the man; she’s sure of herself within the relationship.
The Heart of the Album
In “Wi$h Li$t,” Swift captures this feeling profoundly. People dream of the “yacht life” and “Balenci shades,” chasing the unattainable and extravagant. Men fantasize about “a fat ass with a baby face” —the so-called perfect girl. But Swift undercuts all of that, singing instead about “a driveway with a basketball hoop.” It’s simple, domestic and grounded—a striking contrast to the flashy fantasies that dominate pop culture. To me, “Wi$h Li$t” isn’t so different from “Lover.” It carries that same timeless warmth—the kind of love song I can easily imagine becoming a first dance for many couples. It’s a testament to waiting your whole life for everything you think you want, only to realize the best things aren’t costly or grand—just plain and simple. “Bring me a best friend who I think is hot.” Anything beyond that is extra.
“Honey” tackles double standards with subtlety. It’s emotionally rich yet intricately woven into what first appears to be a simple love song. When Swift sings, “You can call me ‘honey’ if you want / because I’m the one you want,” it sounds sweet and self-assured. But a closer listen reveals something sharper. She recalls, “When anyone called me ‘sweetheart,’ it was passive-aggressive at the bar.” What begins as a term of endearment becomes a commentary on how language toward women can shift—from affectionate to belittling—depending on who’s saying it and why.
The Rest
One of my favorites is “Opalite.” I can’t remember the last time a song radiated such pure joy—the kind that makes you want to throw your arms out and spin until you’re dizzy.
Then there’s “Actually Romantic,” which immediately brings to mind that iconic “Mean Girls” line: “It’s not my fault you’re like in love with me or something!” It’s a song that needed to be written—it perfectly captures that kind of girl drama that’s so absurd, all you can do is laugh.
“Ruin the Friendship”—again, people need to hear it. We’ve all been there ( in love with our best friend… oops, I said it), and maybe her advice will be the little nudge we all need.
“Cancelled!” gives “reputation” energy, but it isn’t exactly what it seems. It carries that same ode to reclaiming the narrative while subtly turning her own life into satire—not because it’s funny, but because sarcasm has always been her sharpest weapon against a rumor.
And of course, the title track, “The Life of a Showgirl,” featuring Sabrina Carpenter, sounds exactly like what it is—the perfect finale.
The Cold Truth
No matter how her albums are received, she’ll always have millions behind her. Swift could release 10 versions of the same record and they’d sell out instantly. These fans aren’t going anywhere; they’ll stream her music nonstop and defend her on every hill. Sure, maybe this isn’t the gut-wrenching Taylor album people are used to—but that’s just not where she is in her life. I’ll always ride for “evermore” and “folklore,” but I can appreciate the duality of her songwriting enough not to dwell on the fact that “The Life of a Showgirl” isn’t one of the two. Because really, at the end of the day, that’s show business, baby—and no one does it better than her.
Edited by: Madison Sherman