Review: The Life of a Showgirl

Taylor Swift makes a joyful return to pop—tight hooks, sticky melodies, and storytelling that (mostly) keeps up.

When Taylor Swift announced The Life of a Showgirl on the New Heights podcast, she laid out her goals for the album: “Melodies that were so infectious that you're almost angry at [them]” and lyrics that were “just as vivid but crisp and focused and completely intentional.” 

A high bar—and she mostly clears it.

Reuniting with pop hitmakers Max Martin and Shellback, Swift delivers a tight, confident, and sometimes gleeful album that sharply contrasts with her last record, the intimate, brooding, 31-track The Tortured Poets Department.

The Life of a Showgirl draws on the sounds of 1989, Lover, and reputation with glittering bops, midtempo pop, and one full-on synth-pop banger. But Swift also charts new sonic territory. Parts of “Eldest Daughter” and the title track evoke the theatrical flair of Dear Evan Hansen and The Greatest Showman, while “The Fate of Ophelia” and “Father Figure” are notable departures from her past work.

Throughout much of the album, Swift’s songwriting dazzles. She again proves she can turn a phrase and tell a story within a tight pop song just as deftly as in the indie-folk ballads of folklore and evermore.

"The Fate of Ophelia" is an instant hit.

Swift fuses vivid storytelling and earworm melodies nowhere better than in “The Fate of Ophelia.” The record’s lead single moves from regretfully recounting past lovers to basking in the ease and bliss of finding a soulmate who changed the prophecy, all over a light, buoyant melody.

“Ruin the Friendship” also shines as Swift sets an easy, peaceful melody underneath nostalgic lyrics that are equally gutting and inspiring. It’s the type of understated gem—like “Maroon” from Midnights—that deserves far more appreciation.

Many of the songs are just plain fun. “Opalite” feels tailor-made for dancing under summer stars, while the heavy pulse and memorable hook of “Elizabeth Taylor” demand full-volume listening. The silky pop orchestration of “Father Figure” transports listeners to a 1930s jazz club, with Swift holding court in a smoky upstairs lounge.

Although “Eldest Daughter” struggles to connect its dual themes of internet cancel culture and the expectations of being the oldest daughter, the bridge is Swift at her best. The lyrics, cadence, melody, and harmonies combine for 30 seconds of musical perfection. 

Elsewhere, she’s less crisp. “Wood” leans on raunchy—and sometimes cringey—lines that inject shock value and overshadow an otherwise addictive song. Similarly, a few word choices in “Father Figure” and “Actually Romantic” feel unnecessarily jarring. The clean versions of these tracks keep the focus on the music and the story.

Swift explores love, independence, and fame in "Elizabeth Taylor"

As the title suggests, the album is meant to center on the life of a showgirl. The title track and “Elizabeth Taylor” confront the costs of glitz and glamour. But the rest of the album focuses elsewhere, including classic Swift themes of finding love and settling old scores.

We shouldn’t be surprised that Swift brings up past grudges—she once told us, “I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put them.” She revisits familiar adversaries—ex-lovers, industry rivals, social judgment—albeit through fresh lenses (including as a mob boss!). Even at the top, she’s not ready to shake it off.  

In addition to grudges, much of Swift’s public persona has revolved around her quest for love, her reputation, and ownership of her music. Now that she’s found love with Travis Kelce, conquered touring, and reclaimed ownership of her back catalog, what’s left to chase?

This album hints at answers but mostly poses questions: Is she “married to the hustle of the life of a showgirl,” as she tells us in the title track? Or does she want the “kids and the driveway with a basketball hoop” from “Wi$h Li$t”?

With Swift, one thing’s certain: the next act will surprise.