In my twenty-two years of living, I have definitely spent a lot of money on Taylor Swift. I’ve bought CDs, vinyls, merch, and concert tickets, not to mention the Taylor Swift-themed gifts I’ve received over the years. I don’t say this with pride, but it feels like an important caveat to give in an article intent on criticising Taylor’s current mode of capitalism. My older brother bought me Red on CD for Christmas in 2012, and ever since that day, Taylor’s music has been a big part of my life. Her albums were the soundtrack to my teenage years, and I stood by her during the #TaylorSwiftIsOverParty of 2016. I was deep down the rabbit hole of fangirl Tumblr, and Taylor Swift was my first parasocial love.
However, as I got older, spending more time in the real world and less time on the internet, the intensity of my devotion to Taylor Swift dwindled. Don’t get me wrong, I was lucky enough to go to the Eras Tour, and it was the best concert of my life. I’ve also been to multiple Swiftogeddon club nights in London. Few things make me happier than singing my heart out to the Speak Now album. Nevertheless, Taylor no longer exists to me as the infallible songstress that she once was in my head. Her music and the fandom she built will always mean something to me because of the formative time in my life I spent listening to her music. I’m sure I will continue to listen to every album she releases. But I now see cracks emerging in my fangirl relationship, as she continually prioritises profit over anything else.
When The Life of a Showgirl was announced, I was beyond thrilled. In spite of her growing carbon footprint and her inability to take a political stance, I couldn’t wait to hear the new album. The aesthetics were everything I could have dreamed of, and with the showgirl theme, it seemed like she was about to give us a more mature, sexy album. Reuniting with producers Max Martin and Shellback had Swifties anticipating something fresh, after criticisms of Jack Antonoff’s production on Swift’s previous releases. As I always do on a Taylor Swift album release day, I woke up on the 3rd of October and immediately started listening to the album. And… I was hugely disappointed.
Alex Petridis for The Guardian summed the album up best, saying that the “album isn’t terrible: it’s just nowhere near as good as it should be given Swift’s talents.” I found myself cringing as I listened to the album, wondering what on Earth had happened to the woman who wrote All Too Well (10 Minute Version). But the overall mediocrity of the album wasn’t the only thing leaving a bad taste in my mouth. It was the greed of it all.
Before The Life of a Showgirl, Taylor had already been criticised for the numerous, limited-edition album variants she released, a marketing move which attempts to inflate sales and ensure chart dominance. Lifelong fans, like myself, were beginning to realise their loyalty was being exploited to churn a profit. As fun as a limited-edition vinyl is, nobody really needs multiple versions of the same album, and Swifties were feeling very disappointed. Swift built a fanbase who were committed to paying for her music after she spoke out against Spotify and streaming royalties; what had initially been about artists making a rightful profit from their albums now turned into Taylor pumping out variant after variant, knowing full well that fans would buy them.
As of the time I am writing, there are currently 34 different variants of The Life of a Showgirl. If every single one of these were purchased, which I am sure some very dedicated/financially irresponsible Swifties out there have done, it would come to $681.29. With so many limited-edition versions of the album, many fans feel they ought to buy multiple variants – how else can they claim to be a true fan without a complete collection? Even after the Eras Tour became the highest-grossing tour ever, she continued to encourage fans to spend more and more. It’s no wonder she’s a billionaire.
I’m ashamed to admit I did pre-order the album. Only one variant, thankfully, but because I have been a well-trained Swiftie for many years now, I did my duty and ordered the vinyl. As much as I now criticise Taylor, my fangirl tendencies have been hard to shake. After hearing the album for the first time, though, I felt I’d been duped. I’d spent £30 on an album that I wouldn’t even listen to. The parasocial relationship I built with Taylor as a teenager was based on feeling like she understood me through her songwriting. After The Life of a Showgirl, I can’t help but think she sees us fans as mere revenue streams. Maybe she just has some very expensive plans for her and Travis’ wedding…