The Life of a Listener

On fair-weather fans, the art of listening, and why The Life of a Showgirl deserves your full attention.

I do not have publishing rights to Taylor’s photography or official imagery; so enjoy these orange sparkles representing The Life of a Showgirl.

It’s been two weeks since Taylor Swift’s twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, dropped and I’ve had time to sit with it. The frenzy has quieted a little, the memes have cooled, and now what’s left is the art itself: layered, wry, adult, and a little defiant. If you need a quick and hilarious overview (and haven’t listened to the album) watch this and then continue reading.

With this release, I also bought the limited release digital albums, which include the original voice memos from Taylor’s studio sessions.

I’ve never purchased something like that before, but wow, what a gift. Hearing her hum through half-finished lyrics and clunky chord progressions feels like eavesdropping on the act of creation itself; it’s raw, vulnerable, even a little messy, but that’s the point!

It’s what makes her so singular as a pop artist. She’s not just releasing polish; she’s releasing process. Those memos are like open windows into her craft, the part of songwriting that’s rarely seen and even more rarely shared. It’s generous and disarming and, frankly, accessible. In doing that, she’s telling her fans, “You can make art too. It starts like this.”

A few days after my emotional pilgrimage through Taylor’s demos, as an evening session of my women’s publishing class concluded (oh, the irony) and I packed up, I found myself quietly singing “Opalite”—as one does when the serotonin hits. I asked a Gen-Z Swiftie classmate what she thought of the new album; she looked up from her tote bag and said, “Honestly? I hated it. It’s TikTok trash.”