Music Reviews Nobody Asked For: The Life of a Showgirl

For literally over half of my life now, Taylor Swift has been an integral part of the soundtrack. Like, I did the math and everything — she’s been around for 19 of my 32 years on Earth. I’ll admit my relationship to her and her music has evolved significantly over the almost two decades I’ve been listening to her. At first, she wasn’t really on my radar because I was in my “too cool for country” phase every young rock fan gets at some point, but other girls my age liked her music, so she would soon enough osmosis her way onto my little yellow iPod. Even though I wasn’t a Swiftie at that point, I felt like I got her. After all, I, too, was a cute little blonde girl with an acoustic guitar who liked to make up songs.

As I got older, I started to truly appreciate her songwriting for what it was, and I found myself mimicking a lot of her stylistic signatures in my own songs. At one point, I played an open mic and someone complimented me on the “fantastic Taylor Swift cover” that was in fact an original song of mine. Taylor’s writing was deeply personal in a way nothing else I’d heard at the time was and I loved that. I loved the idea of writing something of an autobiography with every song and every album. I loved how she wove pieces of her lore into her music and almost gamified the art of dissecting it, introducing new generations to the crafts of lyric analysis and songwriting. And I loved that suddenly, it was cool to be a cute little blonde girl with an acoustic guitar, because it was never cool to be anything like me growing up. I was an outcast, but I saw myself in Taylor the way I’d also seen myself in one of my other musical heroes, Ann Wilson from Heart. And just like Ann gave me permission to be a badass rocker chick, Taylor gave me permission to be this quirky, confident, guitar-slingin’ poetess.

I guess that’s why I’m kind of mourning the Taylor I used to see myself in, because I’m finding it increasingly difficult to relate to the Taylor on The Life of a Showgirl. The album was released earlier this month to much fanfare and a strangely lukewarm reception from the fanbase. A lot of Swifties ate it up, which is to be expected. But some were entirely put-off by the controversies surrounding the album, such as the excessive limited edition merch, which many fans viewed as a shameless cash grab, or the lyricism, which some fans saw as an artistic regression at best and an indication that maybe she was a sucky songwriter the whole time at worst. There are literally listeners wondering if ex-boyfriend and former co-writer Joe Alwyn had ghostwritten the entirety of the widely beloved folk-tinged sister albums folklore and evermore. And then you’ve got the sociopolitical elephant in the room.

Yes, there are even Swifties convinced that Taylor had defected to the right-wing grift, citing some suspiciously tradwifey-sounding lyrics in a few songs. Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to delve into all of these controversies in this review, and I will say that some of the criticism is unfounded, while some is definitely valid. Because of the divisive nature of this album, I also want to divide my review into “music” and “lyrics,” as I feel the lyrics really need to be digested on their own. This is a strange Taylor album in that I feel the music is actually stronger than the words this time, thanks to the contributions of the man who essentially codified popular music for the 21st century, a certain Swede by the name of Max Martin.

The most famous man you’ve never heard of (unless you’re a fellow r/popheads weirdo).

Taylor going back to work with Max was already a shift for her, as her previous handful of albums had been handled by Jack Antonoff, former Fun guitarist turned pop producer extraordinaire. Because of Max’s involvement with 1989, an album many Swifties regard very highly, myself included (as it was the first album of hers I bought), expectations were beyond high for this album. It was supposed Taylor’s triumphant return to the effervescent pop the fans were craving after the 31-song sobfest that was The Tortured Poets Department. What we got, well, it’s complicated…

1. The Fate of Ophelia

Our opener is fun, if a little underwhelming. It’s got a fun groove, although I was hoping for something a little more uptempo and major key. It feels somber for what’s supposed to be the big hit from the album. Some interesting music theory stuff — she adds an extra four-beat measure to each musical phrase, creating a sort of disorienting feeling. It’s not a bad thing by any means, and I enjoy when she plays around with the rhythm in an unusual way. Like, it’s easy to forget she has more than one song in 5/4 time. Lyrically, the song claims her man had rescued her from “the fate of Ophelia,” which, if you’ve experienced the classic Shakespeare play, is suicide by drowning after her man accidentally kills her dad and tells to fuck off to “a nunnery,” which was old-timey slang for a brothel. (At least that’s what my high school English teacher said.) This is obviously very dark material, but Taylor doesn’t get too into the nitty-gritty details, which keeps this song enjoyable as a fun pop song. My only gripes with the lyrics are the lines “Pledge allegiance to your hands, your team, your vibes,” which takes me out of the song entirely and reminds me I’m listening to Taylor wax poetic over this guy:

Like no offense, he seems like a nice enough dude. But I think I like her songs more when I can’t put a face to it. It allows me to insert my own story into the narrative and connect to it more. Which is why I’m thankful I’m polyamorous and recently starting seeing an athlete myself (and one of his sports is football), so at least I have somebody to dedicate all these “football man songs” to in my head. Someone in a Reddit thread suggested changing the “your team” line to “Pledge allegiance to your hand between my thighs,” which is a much sexier image than anything “Wood” conjures up (don’t worry, we’re getting there) and fits the rhyme and rhythm perfectly. I think that’s the direction I would have gone in had I written this myself.

Music: 5

Lyrics: 5

2. Elizabeth Taylor

This one starts off pretty soft, which is why the beat dropping in the chorus is almost a jumpscare, but I’d argue it’s in a good way. The music is lined with twinkly piano and cinematic strings, evoking the glamour of a bygone Hollywood era, apropos of its inspiration, the illustrious Elizabeth Taylor. I definitely give Taylor (Swift, that is) credit for introducing her young audiences to older media, and it’s actually pretty neat that Liz’s legendary film performances are getting a bit of a boost from this track. Like how cool is it that some Gen Z kid might check out Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and fall in love with the art of acting or filmmaking all because of some song?

I’m not in love with this one, but it’s solid as one of Liz’s White Diamonds. It’s one I would go out of my way to listen to again, just not on repeat.

Music: 6

Lyrics: 5

3. Opalite

Ooohah oh oh oh…Ophelia’s outta the water and springing to life in this one. There is no word to describe the vibe of this song besides euphoric. It is pure sonic bubblegum. It almost has the cadence of a joyous Christmas song. This is the effervescent pop the people were asking for. I can almost hear a little Abba in her delivery at times. The intro guitar is soaked in a dreamy delay and the rhythm is a little “Circles” by Post Malone, which isn’t a bad thing. The musical climax has a quartet of Taylors stacking harmonies a la The Beatles. I sincerely believe that this woman has the potential to go down in history as the millennial Paul McCartney. (Lord knows he has some “glitter gel pen” songs.)

The lyrics talk about lifting up a lover after a dark time. This song made me think of my girlfriend, Olivia, who suffered a series of unfortunate events prior to meeting me, of which the climax was her girlfriend abandoning her in time of need. I always loved how relatable Taylor’s songwriting is, and this is one of her most relatable songs on the album. I know there’s some discourse online about the unfortunate implications of the onyx vs. opalite metaphors in the chorus, essentially claiming the lines are gloating about stealing a white man from a black woman (since Travis’s last few love interests have been black). I don’t think those lines are an indication that Taylor is racist, although maybe she needs more non-white friends in her life to point out when something like this might come across icky. There are more glaring lyrical issues on this album than a line that was likely not racially motivated at all. Also interesting is the fact that opalite is an artificially made stone, which some folks online have analyzed to mean who the hell knows. All in all, though, this is a lovely little tune, one that lives up to its name as a gem.

Music: 8

Lyrics: 8

4. Father Figure

This one seems to be a fan favorite, but it was pretty forgettable in my opinion. Let’s be real, it’s probably about her fighting for her masters, but it’s framed as an older Svengali-type figure speaking to a young protege. He offers her protection and success in exchange for loyalty, but the partnership sours by the end. It’s told from the perspective of the “Father Figure,” interestingly enough, not the protege, and it’s lined with mafia references (“You’ll be sleeping with the fishes before you know you’re drowning”). Nothing about this track really stands out to me except the key change toward the end as the protagonist threatens the protege for her betrayal. The shift reminds me of how the key changes in “Getaway Car” as the narrative flips. These songs could almost be considered sister songs with the crime metaphors, but it lacks the sparkle “Getaway Car” had.

One of the overarching themes I keep bumping into, in addition to the fact that Taylor is no longer relatable, is the fact that this album is chock full of missed opportunities. “Father Figure” is one of the saddest wasted moments on the album because Taylor had gotten explicit permission to interpolate George Michael’s song of the same name, but squandered it. I would have loved for her to lean into the 80s vibe and more directly reference the original song, which feels absent aside from the one shared line at the start of the chorus. Overall, this had the potential to be so much cooler than it ended up being.

Music: 3

Lyrics: 4

5. Eldest Daughter

Even if you’re only a tiny bit versed in Tay-lore, you know about Song 5. (Not to be confused with “My Song 5” by her besties in HAIM — a great song in its own right.) Song 5 on any given Taylor album is often regarded as her most personal song of the batch. The tune widely considered to be her magnum opus, “All Too Well,” was Song 5 on Red. Introspective ballads “The Archer” and “You’re on Your Own, Kid” were also Song 5 on their respective albums, as were the heartbreaking “Dear John” and “So Long, London,” both about devastating breakups. So Swifties had every reason to expect Ms. Swift to absolutely fuckin’ do it to us this time around. And what we got was “Eldest Daughter,” a track arguably soiled by “hip” lingo, a missed opportunity to address the valid struggles of a firstborn daughter, and the real life context behind the song being Taylor’s big overblown romance with Travis Kelce of all people. Needless to say, most Swifties were not satisfied.

But I am not “most Swifties,” and I hesitate to say it, but “Eldest Daughter” might not just be my new favorite Song 5, but my new favorite Swift-penned song altogether. I think the problem is a lot of Swifties aren’t in the target audience for this song. It’s not for happily single Gen Z kids who are just now making their way in the world. It’s for a jaded Millennial who finally found real, fulfilling love in a world that’s become increasingly hostile in the time since they’ve been alive. It makes me think of my own wife, an “eldest daughter” (well, technically an only daughter, but the familial pressures are still there). I’m the “youngest child” in this case, and while I know I’m not a “bad bitch” or the most exciting option out there, I’m my wife’s teammate. We’d recently overcome a lot of both interpersonal and external conflict together when I first heard this song, and the line “I’m never gonna leave you now” hit me like a truckload of frozen turkeys because my wife had said that exact sentence to me verbatim. I have plans to record a covers EP in lieu of NaNoWriMo this year, and I want to include this song on it because it literally feels like something I could have written myself. And that bridge. If you listen to this song for no other reason, listen to it for the bridge. It rivals “This Love” as my favorite Taylor-made bridge of all time.

Music: 10

Lyrics: 10

6. Ruin the Friendship

Okay, my crackpot theory is that this song — or at least parts of it — was originally penned during the Speak Now era, and was shelved until recently. I realize I have very little to back up this theory except that sonically and thematically it fits very well with Speak Now, and suspiciously enough, the friend whose death is mentioned in the song had passed back in 2010, which would have been around the time that album was being written and recorded. But this groovy little track feels nostalgic for a number of reasons, and not just the breezy instrumental that sounds like a 70s-tinged version of early Tay. This feels like a return to form for her with the confessional lyrics about an unfamous guy in a high school setting. This is the sadder older sister of “Teardrops on My Guitar” due to the cruel twist ending of the would-be love interest dying in the final verse. Taylor gives her advice, having experienced this pain — just “ruin the friendship,” rather than always wonder what could have been.

I think the reason some folks have taken issue with this song is the implication that the love interest has a girlfriend in the song, and Taylor seems to regret not making her move regardless. I guess that can seem a little insensitive coming from the woman who wrote “Girl At Home” chastising a man for trying to cheat with her, noting that he has a “girl at home” he should be with instead. I don’t see it that way, though. Humans are messy, and sometimes, the thoughts we have after a loss aren’t exactly neat or even “nice.” Maybe it’s not exactly “politically correct” to wish you’d just kissed that guy who had a girlfriend and now he’s dead so you can’t, but that’s the nature of the human experience. The beauty of music is that it can encapsulate all of those conflicting feelings.

Music: 7

Lyrics: 6

7. Actually Romantic

Taylor Swift is one of my all-time favorite songwriters and an artist I admire deeply. That being said, she doesn’t always have the best ideas. Take, for example, responding to Charli XCX’s “Sympathy is a Knife” with…this. For context, that song is about Charli’s insecurities when it comes to being around Taylor. And I mean, who wouldn’t be insecure around her? She’s tall, conventionally attractive, talented, wildly successful, and at one point was very entrenched in Charli’s world, having dated her now-husband’s bandmate in The 1976. So Charli had to be around THE Taylor Swift on the regular for quite some time, and she was understandably feeling kind of…down about that. So she wrote a song about how Taylor’s larger-than-life presence makes her feel comparatively lesser.

And Taylor’s response was basically “Yeah, you’re right, you do suck compared to me. And I bet you’ve got a big lesbian crush on me too.”

Regina And Her Little Workers (Mean Girls Photo 2) - Regina George "The ... — *Chappell Roan voice* *And we both have a crush on Regina George!*

It’s a really disproportionately mean-spirited song when Charli’s main beef with Taylor was “you’re too cool for me to be around.” But here’s the thing — if you divorce it from the real-life implications of the song, it’s actually probably the best track on the album. It has a laid-back guitar-driven instrumental and the same chill chord progression as the 1988 Pixies classic “Where is My Mind?” (Which, in Taylor’s defense, chord progressions cannot be copyrighted, so the discourse around whether or not she copied it has been driving me bonkers.) I decided to learn it on guitar myself after it came out because it was stuck in my head, and I found when I sing the song, I picture this batshit bananapants bitch from my town’s karaoke scene who screwed over all my friends and I’m not sure wants to have sex with me or murder me. It fits her way better in my opinion.

Music: 10

Lyrics: 1 (when they’re about Charli)/100 (when they’re about crazy karaoke bitch)

8. Wi$hli$t

We’re getting to the real depths of this album with this track, which I’m truly disappointed was not a Kesha feature (if she can bring back the dollar sign for “Kinky,” she can do it for a Taylor collab). My disappointment goes far beyond the lack of Kesha, though, as this song is a total snoozefest. Trite chord progressions, the same tired twinkly synth, and weak breathy vocals really work together to make this song musically forgettable, but I haven’t even touched on the lyrics yet. Other people want yachts, exotic destinations, and complex female archetypes with fat asses, Taylor croons, but she just wants a suburban white picket fence life with her man. I take issue with the entire concept of this song for two reasons. For one, the whole “I just want babies ever after with my true love” trope feels icky in a world where white women’s bodies are increasingly being viewed as nothing more than baby factories to combat the “Great Replacement,” a theory endorsed by Elon Musk and Charlie Kirk, among others. I hate the fact that the conservative movement has all but co-opted the idea of wanting children and a family — I’m as left-leaning as it gets and I want to be a mother more than anything, and it’s actually really offensive to conflate right-wing talking points with having a family. Unfortunately, though, it is a common assumption these days, and I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to believe a lot of high-ranking right-wing elites are squealing at the thought of Taylor going full tradwife. I think the more glaring lyrical issues, however, lie in the “let them eat cake” attitude of the pre-chorus coming from a literal billionaire. Like, no Taylor, most normal people don’t give two fucks, flying or otherwise, about chopper rides or Balenciaga shades. I care so little about Balenciaga, I had to look up how to spell it. Most people just wanna eat, Taylor.

Music: 1

Lyrics: 1

9. Wood

On her old song, “White Horse,” Taylor declares that she is “not a princess” (and this ain’t a fairytale). On this song, she also demonstrates that she is also not Prince. I’ve never listened to an artist sing about the birds and the bees before and finished the song wondering if they’d ever even lost their v-card, but Taylor here is delivering the unsexiest slop I’ve ever heard. I know she can do sexy, and well. We have “Dress,” of course. But this song falls flat. I wish she’d just lean into the silliness of the lyrics and deliver us an irreverent Sabrina Carpenter-esque banger, but she needs to sell it to us. You can’t half-ass camp. No more “ah-matized.” Taylor, you told us back on “Father Figure” that your “dick’s bigger.” Well, give us that big dick energy on this track. Lean into the absurdity of sexuality. Make it equal parts horny and corny.

It’s hard (heh) to focus on the musical aspects of the song when the lyrics are so egregious, but a lot of the discourse surrounding this song that isn’t about Travis Kelce’s penis is the fact that the intro sounds suspiciously like the intro of the Jackson 5 classic “I Want You Back.” It’s musically different enough that I don’t think she outright copied the Jacksons, but I definitely think she is intentionally aping that sort of sunshiny vintage 70s style. That being said, like the similarities in “Actually Romantic” to the Pixies track, these are not really things you can sue over, but then again, with how horrifically litigious the music industry has been post-“Blurred Lines,” one might actually be able to make a case against this song. I don’t believe in the concept of copying music anyways, as it’s a deeply derivative art form — everyone wants to emulate the rock stars they looked up to — and that is why I’m not going to give Taylor crap for this one. There are much worse sins happening within this song.

Music: 5

Lyrics: 1 (for making me think about Travis Kelce’s penis for waaaaay longer than I wood have liked)

10. CANCELLED!

I feel like at least in the music criticism circles I frequent, this has been the most controversial song of this batch for its lyrical content. Which, depending on who you think it’s about, makes this Reputation-tinged song either kinda icky or downright sinister. Some folks think it’s about Brittany Mahomes, a noted Trump supporter, and feel it’s further indication that Swift is drifting right in her politics, or worse, that the “Miss Americana: Social Justice Warrior Princess” persona was nothing more an act (which definitely sucks if true). Personally, though, I feel it’s about Blake Lively, her fellow statuesque blonde best frenemy, whose friendship soured when…I’m not sure. Something about her recent film It Ends With Us. I haven’t been following it closely because frankly I don’t care. Blake doesn’t seem like the worst person, if you sweep that whole “getting married on the site of terrible human atrocities” thing under the rug.

Literally two seconds on Yelp could have averted this, guys.

Here’s the thing, though — Blake apologized for that transgression. Does it make it okay? Absolutely not. Was she dumb for doing it? Totally. But we live in a society where you do one stupid or insensitive thing and your entire life is ruined forever. And Taylor could have made this song about that concept and done an amazing job at it…but she didn’t. It feels like a giant missed opportunity to call out the trigger-happy ridiculousness of cancel culture. I do like the song sonically to the point where it may be my favorite on the album musically, and I actually like it more when I give it a new backstory. Like, imagine it as the backdrop to a character’s face-heel turn, like in Mean Girls when Cady goes full-on Plastic. That’s the shit this song was meant for.

11. Honey

The most forgettable one. The concept is cute — basically talking about how words that were once used against you passive-aggressively actually sound nice from the lips of a lover — but it just falls flat both musically and lyrically for me. A nothingburger of a song, sadly.

Music: 2

Lyrics: 4

12. The Life of a Showgirl

The final song, and one I wish was a little more glitzy and schmaltzy considering the lyrical content, but I’m pretty pleased with this one as an album closer. It features Tay protege Sabrina Carpenter, best known for doing “unhinged and sexy” way better than Taylor could ever dream (as evidenced by, well, “Wood”). The ladies recount the tale of Kitty, the titular showgirl who made a comfy living by being “pretty and witty.” This is the first and only time Tay brings in an “outside character,” which is a damn shame considering some of her best work has been written about third parties as opposed to herself. Who can forget the brilliant trilogy that was “cardigan”/“august”/“betty” from her acclaimed folklore album? Taylor has a way of getting us invested in the lives of these fictional people, and I feel like her songwriting on this album could have benefitted from incorporating more characters like Kitty. Hell, I would have loved to have seen an entire concept album about Kitty and her struggles. Add that to the pile of missed opportunities for this album.

All that being said, this was a fitting finish to the album, especially the glistening outro, which feels like it opens up into one of Taylor’s widely celebrated Eras shows, complete with the crowd going wild. In a way, it feels like the older, wiser sister of Speak Now closer “Long Live,” a track that also celebrates the spotlight and the hard work it takes to become practically immortal through your art. In typical Swiftian fashion, she pulls out the plot twist in the bridge — she and Sabrina were not discouraged by Kitty’s blunt honesty about the harsh realities of showbiz, but instead chose to pursue the dream with their whole heart. It’s a bittersweet ode to the ups and downs of life as an entertainer, a calling that, while difficult at times, can be a rather fulfilling one indeed.

Music: 7

Lyrics: 8

In summary, I feel this album is a solid effort from Swift, albeit one that could have used a little more polishing and “reading the room” before seeing a proper release. These songs would have been well received from literally any other artist, but I understand how lyrics about having friends dripped in “Gucci and scandal” feels out-of-touch from a powerful billionaire when most listeners are struggling to afford groceries. I would have also loved to see Tay explore Kitty’s story more — there is an entire backstory there I’m dying to learn more about. All in all, this album is an enjoyable excursion, though maybe not one I’ll listen to all the way through again. There are some great moments, but also some very clear nadirs as well. That being said, many of the songs are on repeat for me at the moment, and “Eldest Daughter” may just be my new favorite Swift-written song ever, so this album may be one that takes a little longer to fully appreciate.

5/10

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The Sincerest Form of Flattery (And Why Taylor — Or Anyone Else — Shouldn’t Have to Apologize For “Stealing” Songs)

Ah, Taylor. I don’t even have to write her last name and you already know who I’m referring to.

Unless you’re just getting back from a year-long sabbatical during which you traversed the steppes of Uzbekistan with nothing but a backpack and no phone, you probably well aware that Ms. Swift just dropped a new album. And it’s…just okay. It’s nothing to write home about, especially when compared to her masterful previous works, and the lyricism seems to have regressed significantly. I’ll probably write a full review of the album in the next week or so, but I wanted to touch on one of the biggest talking points that’s come up during this album cycle. And it’s probably the talking point that’s been driving me the most bananapants.

Which is just how hilariously clueless the general public is when it comes to music.

Okay, that might have sounded a bit mean coming from a bitch with a music degree and decades of experience, so let me reword it a little nicer — the vast majority of the population has no idea how music theory actually works, especially in the context of copyright law. Now I’m not a lawyer, but I do know a little bit about what can be copyrighted and what can’t. Still, I want to focus more on the music side of things rather than the law side, because that’s the more fun side, right?

I guess you could count this thing as a percussion instrument.

Anyways, let’s start here — you got these songs. There’s the questionable Charli XCX diss track, “Actually Romantic.” Among the many complaints about the song, particularly that it’s disproportionately mean-spirited, is the observation that it sounds suspiciously like the 1988 Pixies single “Where Is My Mind?” Then you have “Wood,” Tay’s tacky ode to her man’s…manhood, which people have said sounds suspiciously like the legendary Jackson 5 hit “I Want You Back.” And the song I consider lyrically the strongest of this batch, her title track collab with my current celebrity girl-crush, Sabrina Carpenter, shares a similar feeling to “Cool” by the Jonas Brothers, who were famously her associates early in her career. So what the fuck, Taylor? Are we blatantly ripping off other artists now?

And here’s the part where I get to say “Well, ACKSHUALLY” and defend Taylor’s compositional choices (even if some of the lyrical choices are much harder to defend — looking at you again, “Wood”).

Thank you SO MUCH for making me picture Travis Kelce’s rock hard redwood tree…

In the Western music tradition, you’ve got 12 notes: A through G, plus the sharps/flats in between. It’s important to note that out of these 12 notes, only a handful sound good together. Those notes that sound good together form the “key” of any given song. The key is essentially the artist’s palette of colors. Those are the notes you can put in your song that will actually sound like they fit in the song. Anything outside of the key will sound off and even unsettling at times. That being said, you can use notes that don’t fit into the key, but it takes a certain degree of finesse and theory knowledge to pull off nicely. But for the most part, you’ve got maybe seven notes to work with, which, ya know, ain’t a lot.

Let’s get to chord progressions. What is a chord progression? Well, have you ever listened to “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga and Luis Fonsi’s “Despacito” back to back? Even though the genres of the songs are completely different, the “vibe” is still eerily similar. And that is because they share the same chord progression. There are many, many more examples. “Africa” by Toto. “One of Us” by Joan Osborne. “Peace of Mind” by Boston. “Fuckin’ Problems” by A$AP Rocky. “Alone” by my freaking favorite band of all time, Heart. And that’s just one famous chord progression. The progression the Beatles used in “Twist and Shout” was practically ubiquitous in the 50s and 60s, and the blues as a genre likely wouldn’t even exist without the 12-bar progression we know and love. And — this is important — you cannot copyright a chord progression. If I wanted to write a song that uses the exact same chord progression as Taylor’s “Love Story,” I could — and I have. Heck, she has even plagiarized herself in this regard. Go listen to “Shake It Off” and “Eldest Daughter” one after the other and tell me the latter doesn’t sound like a more somber, slowed down version of the first. That’s because they use the same three-chord progression.

Did Tay lift the chord progressions for her new songs from preexisting songs? There’s a chance, but even if she did, you have to remember that musicians have been gleaning ideas from each other for time immemorial. Everyone is influenced by someone. But there’s also a decent chance she just sat down at her piano or with a guitar and those are the chords that naturally came out. Because, like I mentioned earlier, they just sound good together. Our ears are conditioned since birth to listen for patterns in music, and you’re so used to hearing a V chord resolve into a I chord (that’s historically the most common way to end a musical phrase — the authentic cadence). So when you go to write a song, that’s what you naturally gravitate toward.

There is a great deal of discourse around the supposed lack of originality on this album, but I don’t think that’s a fair critique. I think there are plenty of valid critiques when it comes to this album, but I don’t think this is one of them. You could argue that Taylor opened herself up to more scrutiny in this area when she went after Olivia Rodrigo for rights on a song that only marginally sounded like hers (and like, only if you squint). At the same time, I don’t like any criticism of “copying” in songwriting unless it’s a particularly egregious example. Music, at the end of the day, is a social art, and musicians are going to keep borrowing from each other like they always have. As one of my favorite writers, Austin Kleon, says, it’s okay to “steal like an artist.” I’m allowed to have influences. You’re allowed to have influences.

And so is Taylor.

How Ephemeral Love Becomes Eternal Through Music

Brace yourselves, kids. In this post, I mention both Heart and Taylor Swift.

A few days ago, Heart’s original manager, Michael Fisher, passed away. Actually, calling him just their manager is kind of an understatement. In the autobiography of Heart frontwomen Ann and Nancy Wilson, Kicking & Dreaming, Ann tells the story of how Michael was her first love. Their whirlwind relationship inspired one of the band’s earliest and most iconic songs, “Magic Man.”

Why do I mention this? Obviously, Ann and Michael didn’t work out. Michael ended up marrying someone else and having like eleven freakin’ kids, and Ann went on to become a rock star. But their stories are forever intertwined because of that one song. And that’s what this post is about, because when you write a song for someone — or create any art in their honor — you’re preserving a piece of that relationship forever.

I’m a lifelong songwriter. I’m also fascinated by interpersonal dynamics. If you took every song I’ve ever written throughout my life, they would tell countless stories of people who have come and gone and somehow left a mark on me. The songs almost act as containers for the emotions left behind by those old relationships. Each song is a museum of memories. That’s why I have this theory when it comes to songwriting. Well, maybe it’s more of a maxim than a theory. And the maxim is this: If you get even one beautiful creation out of a relationship, it was not a waste of time.

People enter into relationships usually expecting — or at least hoping — to spend forever with someone. The point of dating is to find “your person” (or people, if you’re polyamorous like myself). So when relationships go south, it’s easy to write off the entire experience as meaningless. That’s where art comes in, though. With the magic of creativity, even the shortest-lived tryst can be fuel for a song or a film or a poem or painting.

Taylor Swift is a songwriter I admire deeply, and she’s a great example of this maxim in action. People have given her so much shit throughout the years for writing about her relationships, but honestly, that’s one of the things I like about her writing style. Not because I’m one of those parasocial weirdos who obsess over her dating history, but because that’s how I write songs too. I write about people. She has had many exes, as have I, but I feel like that’s what makes us better at writing. We have these lived experiences we can churn into music, and nothing can take that away from us. Like, she’s not with Taylor Lautner anymore and she hasn’t been with him for over a decade. But “Back to December” is still a beautiful song all these years later, and a song that millions of people still listen to and relate to.

I think of my own songwriting similarly. I think back to Jacob, whom I had a short-lived fling with my freshman year of college that led to the writing of “Smiles & Anchors” and “Tsvi.” I think about Dylan, my high school crush, who inspired “Off the Deep End” and the unreleased track “Outta My System” off my upcoming album Lore. There’s TJ, the muse behind “Song of the Sea,” and Phil, who never reciprocated my feelings but nonetheless influenced the writing of “Oceanography.” There are even songs I’ve squeezed out my non-romantic relationships and the ones that really went south, like the falling out with a former bandmate that led to the writing of “Ladies Don’t Start Fights (But They Can Finish Them).” I can find closure for relationships I wasn’t ready to leave just yet, and peace in relationships I’m happy are over, all because I’ve been able to transmute the pain into something I’m proud of.

I know I write about songwriting pretty frequently, but it is something I’m deeply passionate about. It’s what has gotten me through many breakups and heartaches and unrequited loves. But none of those situations were in vain, all because I could make something beautiful out of them. Relationships — romantic and otherwise — are the backbone of songwriting. We write about human beings and the way they relate to each other. Maybe those relationships don’t last forever, and sometimes, they shouldn’t last forever. Michael Fisher may have been absolutely miserable had he ended up with Ann Wilson, and vice versa, but the love they shared briefly inspired music that people will treasure for generations to come. And to me, that’s the beauty of songwriting.

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The Life of a Showgirl: Why the Arts Matter in a World on Fire

So Taylor Swift announced a new album.

And I am announcing that I am *very gay for this woman.*

The world came to a crashing halt, all because the biggest pop star on the planet teased some new music. Fans, celebrities, corporations, and motherfucking Elmo paid homage to Swift in their own ways. Even one of my personal heroes, Nancy Wilson of Heart, got in on the Tay love, posting this picture with the caption “life of a showgirl.”

To be clear, Nancy is the woman in the mirror, not the tiny adorable pupper.

With the announcement of the new album casting an orange glow over the world, it’s easy to miss the fires that have been raging the entire time. Trump’s Big Bonkers Bill is gutting healthcare for millions of Americans who rely on it. Public radio and television, one of the last bastions of true journalism and free speech, is also being gutted. And you have that quadruple-divorced fucko who swears she knows so much about the “sanctity of marriage” trying to take away my right to have a wife and family, so I mean, it’s fucking personal now. Then you throw on everything happening in Ukraine and Palestine and it’s fucking exhausting. The world’s on fire. Innocent folks are dying, and everyone’s freaking out over a Taylor Swift album?!

But — and hear me out, here — that might not be a bad thing.

I’ve written on this site about the concept of “glimmers,” which are functionally the opposite of triggers. While a trigger is an event that causes you to feel uncomfortable or afraid, a glimmer is an event that brings intense joy. They’re the tiny moments that make life worth living. A lot of glimmers come through art. Think about the last time a song gave you chills or the plot of a film or book moved you. Those are glimmers in action.

It’s easy to write off the creative and performing arts as vapid and unimportant, but art is a rebellion against a world that tries to quash any anti-conformity and critical thinking. Art is an invitation to think deeper — something the oligarchs don’t want us to be doing. Even mainstream art like Taylor’s is punk as hell in times like these, as it unites folks together. Music gives people hope. It inspires. It galvanizes. I think that’s part of why the elites are keen on eliminating things like arts education and pushing AI to make things instead of training up human artists. Art is dangerous. Creativity is dangerous. Hope is dangerous.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this image popped up on my feed while I was doing research for this post:

This is a simple but true statement, and I’d apply it to both your own work and other people’s works. If an artist’s music helped you in any capacity to enjoy your time on this planet, if even one song paints the planet just a little brighter for a moment, it served its purpose. And that purpose is to be a sort of analgesic to the pain of everyday life. That’s what I believe Taylor understands so deeply, and that’s what I hope to embody in my own creative endeavors. The life of a showgirl is to serve glimmers and bring hope.

In a world that is intent on snuffing out anything whimsical, beautiful, or different, embrace that spark that makes life worth living.

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Music Reviews Nobody Asked For: The Tortured Poets Department

Here’s a shocker: I’m a bit of a Swiftie. I know I’ve written a defense of her before, but never a proper album review. Since The Tortured Poets Department just came out, I figured now was as good a time as ever to write one. I’m no music journalist, but I do have a degree in music and journalism, so I might as well put my useless skills to use for a Music Review Nobody Asked For.

First things first: The Tortured Poets Department is not an album. It is a cry for help. I have never in my life heard a more depressing two hours of music. Even her obligatory “glitter gel pen” song of the album is sad as hell when you get past the bouncy synths and actually listen to the lyrics. Like, she literally screams “I’m miserable!” at the end of it.

I differ from most Swifties in that I really don’t give a shit about her personal life. She’s a billionaire I’m never going to meet. It’s the same reason I don’t care about sports. When everyone back home was freaking out about the Detroit Lions doing important stuff, I was indifferent. I don’t know those guys. They’re just some stinky dudes. That’s how I feel about Taylor. I admire her for her songwriting, but I feel like I get more out of music when I don’t know who the song is about. That way, I can relate the song more to my own life and in turn get more out of it emotionally. “Teardrops On My Guitar” isn’t about Drew, it’s about my middle school crush Kyle Kelley, damn it.

And it’s probably for the best that it’s NOT about Drew, because Drew sucks.

The thing about TTPD, though, is that the album hinges on the fact that people know who it’s about. And supposedly it’s mostly about this guy:

I know nothing about Matty Healy except that he’s 1. the frontman of The 1975, a band I also don’t care about, and 2. kind of a dickhead, but who am I to judge her taste in men? I don’t exactly have a pristine track record when it comes to dating dudes (which is probably why I switched to primarily women), so I have no room to talk. But apparently other Swifties do feel the need to judge her for her less-than-stellar choice. Like, some fans literally wrote her an open letter telling her to stay away from this guy, which is kind of wack, and also the inspiration behind like, half of this album.

But Jessa, isn’t this review about the music?

Well, yeah. I don’t want to ruminate on this topic for longer than I need to, but it’s important to contextualize this album. This is essentially a concept album about a forbidden romance, and one Taylor seemingly caused herself. You see, dating Matty Healy would taint her brand, but if the songs on this album are any indication, she thinks he’s the love of her life. What would you choose — the reputation and career you’ve built up for yourself since 2006, or the guy of your dreams? I can see why she wrote these songs the way she did. It’s a weird situation to be in, and not a situation I envy.

But let’s get into the music. There’s two parts to the TTPD — the album proper, and The Anthology, a companion album of sorts released two hours after the initial release. As a whole, the first half of the album is soft and synthy, owing to Jack Antonoff’s production, while the second half is closer in vibe to the folklore/evermore sound, with Aaron Dessner producing much of it. The fandom seems pretty divided on which half is better, and honestly both halves have some great songs and a few duds. For better or worse, the album is pretty cohesive — no one song really “stands out” as THE BEST, but most of the songs are pretty strong. Let’s look at some of the highlights.

Fortnight: This is the lead single, so I’m obligated to comment on it, but honestly, I wasn’t too impressed by it. It’s the same chords all the way through and is constantly building, but never really gives us that “oomph” moment it promises. Post Malone’s vocals add a little pizzazz to it, but it’s pretty lackluster for a single. I was expected Taylor to punch me in the face with whatever single she had lined up for this album, but it was a mild slap at best.

The Tortured Poets Department: As the title track, I feel obligated to comment on this as well. The 80s-ish drums grabbed my attention, but musically I wasn’t too impressed with this one either. Lyrically, it’s fairly strong, though. I think people miss the sarcasm. She’s calling out her boo for fancying himself a tortured poet, and maybe calling herself out as well. He’s as much a Dylan Thomas figure as she is Patti Smith. The theme of self-deprecation is recurring in this album.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: This one’s a skip for me. The music’s alright, but nothing to write home about.

Down Bad: People seem to really like this one, but it’s a skip for me too. I feel like Taylor’s just trying to see how many f-bombs she can sneak into a song without it being grating.

So Long, London: Everyone was really anticipating this one since it was rumored to be about her doomed long-term relationship with Joe Alwyn. The light almost-choral vocals in the beginning remind me of “My Tears Ricochet,” one of the standout tracks from folklore, but it doesn’t hit me as hard as that song did for some reason. The line “I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free” did send me for a loop, though. Imagine wasting the best years of your life with someone who ultimately let you down. I hate the whole trad-fucko ideology of “marry young so you can pop out a ton of babies before menopause” (which a lot of trad-fuckos pushed onto Taylor — looking at you, Stefan Molyneux), but there is something to be said about squandering all that time you could have spent building a life for yourself. It’s a sad situation all around, and this song captures that feeling.

But Daddy I Love Him: Now we’re cooking. This is the strongest track on the album so far. At a glance, it’s the big sister of “Love Story” — a tale of forbidden love, a modern Romeo and Juliet. The melody even has a sort of country cadence, throwing back to Taylor’s roots. Looking closer, it almost seems to be a takedown of those unhinged fans who wrote her that aforementioned open letter, the “judgmental creeps…sanctimoniously performing soliloquies” she’ll never see and the “saboteurs” saying “stay away from her.” The music takes it to the next level, bombastic and triumphant as she cries that her love is her choice. This is one of the highlights of this album and not a track to be skipped.

Fresh Out the Slammer: I’ve listened to this album probably three or four times now and I remember nothing about this song.

Florida!!!: This Florence + the Machine feature isn’t one of my favorites, but pleasant enough. I enjoy the cheeky “Is that a bad thing to say in a song?” as the lyrics imagine the bodies of past lovers sinking into the swamp.

Guilty As Sin?: Taylor really likes punctuation marks in her songs it seems. As a level-headed Christian, I at least appreciated the religious imagery in the bridge, which seems to have pissed off the right people. (Sean Feucht can go Feucht himself.)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?: Upon my first listen, the first time she screamed “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?” was a bit of a jumpscare. And this song is supposed to be scary. The “circus life” made her deranged and disturbed, even using the metaphor of a performing lioness with her teeth removed. The song is bleak and upsetting, as it should be. This is one of the first indications that Taylor’s mind isn’t all rainbows and sequins but a dark, unsettling place.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): This song is sparse and brooding-sounding as she croons about a lover she insists she can change before the final line realization that maybe she can’t. This isn’t a standout track, but worth a listen.

loml: Another tearjerker along the lines of “So Long, London.” She recalls promises of rings and cradles, only to have her hopes of stability dashed. The instrumentation is appropriately sparse. Not one of my favorites, but again, worth listening to.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: This is the one singular “glitter gel pen” song of the album, and it’s still a bit of a bummer. She sings about how her life is falling apart around her, but she has to keep up appearances, still smiling and giving us a show even when it hurts. The synths are bubbly and poppy, contrasting rather starkly with the lyrics. At the end, her voice cracks as she screams “I’m miserable and no one even knows!” This woman is literally on top of the world, and yet this song proves how terribly lonely she is. I think back to Britney Spears’ “Lucky.” “I’m If there’s nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?”

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: This is probably her most biting song yet, a vicious takedown of an ex-lover who wronged her. Most of the song is pretty calm and subdued, but the bridge gave me literal chills the first time I heard it. Taylor’s the queen of bridges, but these might be some of the angriest lyrics she’s ever written. Hell hath no fury like a singer-songwriter scorned — trust me, I’d know.

The Alchemy: A skip, in my opinion. Nothing really stood out to me about this one.

Clara Bow: First thing I noticed about this song was the amazing bass-driven riff that carries the song. It adds such a darkness to the song musically. The lyrics, according to Taylor herself, are inspired by the way the entertainment industry markets upcoming female performers as the “new and improved” versions of their predecessors. It’s a time progression song that starts in the silent film era with actress Clara Bow, then travels to 1975, when Stevie Nicks was on top of the world with Fleetwood Mac. Finally, Taylor namedrops herself as the one whose star would eventually be eclipsed by a starlet who has the edge she never had. It’s the kind of self-deprecation I mentioned earlier that is ubiquitous throughout the album. This is an appropriate finale to the first part of the double album.

The Black Dog: Arguably my favorite song on the album and quite possible one of my favorites in her entire discography. It heartbreakingly tells the tale of a woman watching as her ex-lover goes about his life, oblivious to how much he’d hurt her. “I just don’t understand how you don’t miss me,” Taylor laments. The music crescendos at the end of every chorus, building up to a climax that ultimately never happens. Normally that kind of let-down would drive me nuts, but it works for this song, representing a love that ultimately went nowhere. The song also namedrops The Starting Line, a relatively obscure emo band, which made my inner 16-year-old squeal. I feel like people forgot that Taylor is a MySpace millennial too.

imgonnagetyouback: All of the commotion I’ve heard about this song revolves around how it’s a similar concept to Olivia Rodrigo’s “Get Him Back.” I think they’re different enough, but unfortunately, Taylor’s take on the idea doesn’t do much for me. It’s a fairly forgettable song compared to the other gems on this half of the album.

The Albatross: This is Taylor at her folklore/evermore-est. She does folk-tinged pop well. No notes on this one, just a solid song.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: The chorus is emo poetry at its best. “If you want to break my cold, cold heart, say you loved me. And if you want to tear my world apart, say you’ll always wonder.” Those lines remind me of “Your House” by my one of my all-time favorites, Jimmy Eat World. “If you love me at all, please don’t tell me now.”

How Did It End?: Another somber tearjerker. One line really stood out to me — “My beloved ghost and me, sitting in a tree, D-Y-I-N-G.” The way she turns a childhood chant into something heartbreaking is chilling. Hey kids, spelling is fun!

So High School: This song is a 90s alternative-flavored bop reminiscent of a more optimistic “Hits Different.” It contains all the giddiness of being in a fresh relationship with someone who reminds you of the butterflies you got from your first crush, along the lines of Katy Perry’s now-legendary “Teenage Dream.” A lot has already been said about the lyrical content, particularly as it relates to Taylor and her most recent relationship with football star Travis Kelce, but as a guitarist, I couldn’t help but fixate on the gorgeous guitar tone present throughout the song. Aaron Dessner really outdid himself with this airy nostalgia-fest.

I Hate It Here: Not my favorite, but I don’t dislike it. A lot of the discourse around this song revolves around her line about wishing she lived in the 1830s minus the racism and sexism. People have called her out for addressing such heavy topics so flippantly, but it’s worth noting that she even points out how silly her fantasies are in the subsequent lines. This song feels like it was very much written from a childlike perspective, if said child was very loquacious.

thanK you aIMee: Yes, she formatted the title like that. I feel like the Taylor Swift/Kim Kardashian feud is very passé at this point, but Taylor has to kick the corpse of the dead horse one more time. If you ignore the fact that this song is obviously about Kim, it’s pretty solid, especially if you interpret the lyrics as a takedown of a childhood bully. It was cathartic screaming these lyrics to my own “Aimee” in the car. (Fuck you, Carissa.)

I Look in People’s Windows: Some more self-deprecation as she calls herself a “deranged weirdo” for creeping on people’s get-togethers through the window, hoping for a glimpse of her lost lover. It’s another tearjerker, although I don’t consider it one of her best songs on the album.

The Prophecy: Probably the saddest song on an album chock full of wildly depressing music. In this song, Taylor pleads to a higher power to “change the prophecy,” offering to trade her fortune for some true companionship. Her voice sounds almost pained as she begs for another chance at real love. It’s a powerful reminder that money can’t buy happiness, and it’s one of the standout tracks on this half of the album.

Cassandra: There are some similarities between this song and Taylor’s “mad woman” from her folklore album, both musically and lyrically. The songs speak of hunting witches and burning bitches, and it almost seems “Cassandra” is a sequel of sorts. The snake allusions hit two-fold, both as a callback to the snake motif associated with Taylor’s reputation album and as a nod to the actual Greek myth of Cassandra, who could hear the future when snakes licked her ears.

Peter: A solid song about a lost love of one’s youth. No real notes on this one.

The Bolter: This is easily one of the strongest songs on the album. It’s got a catchy melody that works in tandem with memorable lyrics that detail the life of the titular “bolter,” as her childhood associates called her. It’s a bittersweet tale — while her many trysts never panned out, she’s “got the best stories” to tell, which made it all worth it.

Robin: I’m pretty sure this song is about childhood and innocence. She seemingly talks to a younger person — “The time will arrive for the cruel and mean, you’ll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline.” The title is never dropped in the song, but it’s suspected that the song is addressed to Aaron Dessner’s son, whose name is Robin.

The Manuscript: This one has potential to grow on me, but it’s not one of my favorites at the moment. I appreciate the heartfelt lyrics for what they are, but nothing really hooked me in. I feel like “The Prophecy” or “The Black Dog” would have been a better album closer.

So those are my thoughts on the new album. What are your thoughts? Which tracks stood out to you? What are your “skips”? Let me know in the comments!