Taylor Swift’s ‘The Life of a Showgirl’: All 12 Tracks Ranked

The showgirl is yearning for a simpler life on “Wi$h Li$t,” in which Swift shrugs off the many accolades of her career in favor of pure, suburbia-inspired normalcy. With a chiming arrangement built around keys and a pedal steel guitar, and a playful vocal performance in which Swift slides up into her falsetto and sinks into a rap delivery, “Wi$h Li$t” sways and beguiles — especially as the production winds down and Swift confesses to both her romantic partner and her shifting personal priorities, “You caught me off my guard.”

Taylor Swift: mob boss? On “Father Figure,” she embodies the perspective of a don backstabbed by a former protege, and while the double-crossed characterization and sneering lyrics (“I can make deals with the devil/ Because my d–k’s bigger,” she tosses out) are worth parsing, Swift excels in this chest-thumping mode, a firehose of authority through every turn of phrase. Meanwhile, the George Michael interpolation is deployed subtly, but pays off with a late key change.

There’s no doubt that “Actually Romantic” will be the song on The Life of a Showgirl that launches a thousand Reddit threads: the knowingly dismissive takedown of someone who’s been talking trash of Swift is the pop embodiment of the Mad Men “I feel bad for you/ I don’t think about you at all” meme. The foundation of the song, however, is musical rather than lyrical — “Actually Romantic” wields its viciousness with grade-A power-pop, as the chug-chug-CLAP cadence will be familiar to anyone who rocked out to Weezer’s “Beverly Hills” 20 years ago.

If some of the songs on The Life of a Showgirl harken back to Swift’s past collaborations with Martin and Shellback on Red and 1989, then “CANCELLED!” is a direct descendant of their Reputation work: Swift embraces those who society has deemed too problematic with dark comedy, taking a sardonic view of modern celebrity that involves “the art of never getting caught.” The guitar chug of “Actually Romantic” returns a few songs later, but with more heft, and effective lyrical jabs; part of the fun of the Reputation era was listening to Swift transform her wounds into an icy resolve, and “CANCELLED!” nicely re-enacts that metamorphosis.

Opalite is a man-made glass — a synthetic replica that’s not quite the real thing. As such, “Opalite” finds Swift sorting through the miscues of her past (and drawing upon the wisdom of various family members) to locate a feeling that doesn’t turn out to be a forgery. A washed-out guitar introduces the slick, shimmying pop-rock track that sounds informed by Eurodance, as if Swift soaked in the Scandinavian vibes during her sojourns to Sweden to work with Martin and Shellback; if “Opalite” gets a live showcase, get ready for that “Wa-ha-ha-ha-OH!” hook to be an absolute blast of a sing-along.

“Tell me for real: do you think it’s forever?” Swift asks on this meditation on the impermanence of romance, fame and everything else worth around her. With its piercing chorus harmonies and heightened drama, “Elizabeth Taylor” sounds like a spiritual sequel to “Don’t Blame Me,” but the elegant piano and programmed strings are juxtaposed with a mischievous streak from Swift, who dots the head-nodding track with lines like, “I would trade the Cartier for someone to trust” — and then adds, “Just kidding!”

Two Eras Tour companions — world-conquering headliner and rising-superstar opener — join forces on the album’s only vocal collaboration, as Sabrina Carpenter helps Swift wax poetic about the general sacrifices endured by women who become entranced by the spotlight. The storytelling of “The Life of a Showgirl” gets a bit knotty, but Swift and Carpenter’s respective tones complement one another splendidly, particularly while discussing the “pain hidden by the lipstick and lace.” It’s an anthem designed not just to close out this album — complete with an extended roll-credits outro — but this record-breaking, stadium-show-girl period of Swift’s career as a whole.

The title of “Wood” ostensibly refers to the superstition of knocking on wood to avoid speaking a bad outcome into existence… but also, the sexual innuendo is sitting right there, too. Swift shouts out Redwood trees, magic wands and “a hard rock” on “Wood” — and that’s all just in the second verse! — as Swift riffs on Sabrina Carpenter’s penchant for tongue-in-cheek, R-rated one-liners, a few tracks before Carpenter appears on the album. Meanwhile, each string instrument and horn is mixed down — the muted disco-funk template is careful to avoid blunting any of the lyrical winks.

“Eldest Daughter” is best enjoyed within the context of The Life of a Showgirl: its vulnerability is directly in conversation with “Father Figure,” the poison washed away with gentle balladry and intimate memories. In a social era where cruelty is too often the point, “Eldest Daughter” combats Internet bullies with softness and an open heart, while acting as a stylistic throwback — think the thematic focus of “Mean” crossed with the hushed instrumentation of “Begin Again,” with a little bit of “Seven” nostalgia. The song’s gorgeous, yearning bridge, marked by an affecting soft-loud contrast, feels like something entirely new for Swift, though.

Okay, this one is actually romantic: more than any other song on The Life of a Showgirl, “Honey” provides a glimpse into her “forever night stand” with Travis Kelce, by way of a linguistic examination of pet names (“sweetheart” and “honey” used to be terms of contempt, and now, they mean the world to her). Cheery piano and trap drums are mashed up with compelling results, making for a snappy, soulful testament of Swift finding her prince after kissing a bunch of frogs. Maybe this one becomes a future radio hit — if not, it will definitely be used for a lot of first dances at future weddings.

Reaching back to Shakespeare to describe the feeling of being driven insane by awful men, and expressing the relief of being saved from such a existence, Swift bursts forward on “The Fate of Ophelia” with a ‘70s-coded, star-crossed chorus — the sound of someone who had previously accepted solitude having their black-and-white world turned into technicolor. The way that the opening track flips resignation into romance, with a pensive piano line turning into a squelched drums, chewy keys, siren-cry harmonies and lots of clap-along opportunities, is a masterclass in pop construction. A song called “The Fate of Ophelia” shouldn’t scan as a surefire single in 2025, but Swift, Martin and Shellback make this a first-listen smash.

Glistening grass, a 50 Cent song on the radio, a disco ball that “makes everything look cheap” during a dalliance: “Ruin the Friendship” finds Swift leaning on lyrical specificity to share evocative details of a flirtation. Yet instead of telling Swift’s current love story, “Ruin the Friendship” takes a second-half turn that’s a true curveball — moving from a meet-cute to a sorrowful send-off, and a towering storyteller letting us in on some personal philosophy. Along with more ace production work from Swift, Martin and Shellback that culminates with fluttering backing vocals on the stirring outro, “Ruin the Friendship” bridges Swift’s past and present as a songwriter, looking back on the careful teen star who became an outspoken cultural force. It’s a summation of her strengths, and will soundtrack a generation of New Romantics.