Five years ago, I sat in my room listening to Taylor Swift’s album “Folklore.” A vast departure from her usual pop-girl breakup music, “Folklore” hit home for me. It felt quiet, honest and human, an acknowledgment of uncertainty in a world that was, even then, starting to unravel before us. But now, with “The Life of a Showgirl,” released on Oct. 3, 2025, Swift trades her subtle storytelling for grand spectacle.
Swift’s newest album, “The Life of a Showgirl,” is breaking streaming records. But for much of her Gen Z audience, it is a display that misses the mark entirely. Gen Z is drowning in student debt, navigating a housing crisis and facing political and economic turbulence that most of us have never known. Meanwhile, Swift casually flaunts the trappings of privilege (and even a free NYU degree) while singing about scandal, Gucci and being “married to the hustle” in the titular song “The Life of a Showgirl.”
Meanwhile, many of her listeners have to juggle crippling student loans and sky-high rent rates — things Swift herself has largely avoided. The average monthly student loan payment for Gen Z is $526, more than double the national average of $284. That kind of financial burden makes it nearly impossible to save for a down payment on a home, especially as rent prices continue to soar.
When federal student loan payments resumed in 2025, Gen Z saw one of the largest drops in credit scores in years, driven by missed payments and high loans. It is no surprise that wealth inequality is widening between generations; as many older Americans built stability through accessible homeownership, many in Gen Z can barely imagine financial independence, much less think about passing down generational wealth.
Moreover, in Swift’s “Eldest Daughter,” the casual drop of “savage” in the lines “But I’m not a bad bitch, and this isn’t savage / But I’m never gonna let you down” only underscores the disconnect. Some critics are calling into question the use of a word with heavy cultural weight. “Savage” is often considered a pejorative term, as the word has been used to imply that certain cultures and groups are “primitive” or “uncivilized.” Often used to describe Black or indigenous groups, the casual usage of this word has left some listeners feeling uneasy.
For Gen Z, “The Life of a Showgirl” is not escapism; it is a reminder of what many of us will never have: privilege, wealth, a carefree ride through higher education and a private jet. As Swift sings in “Wi$h Li$t,” lines like “Boss up, settle down, got a wish list,” highlight ambition and aspiration. However, considering the reality many of her Gen Z listeners are living in, lines like this miss the mark. Swift may be topping the charts, but her album’s unattainable fantasies clash with the reality of her listeners who made the album successful in the first place.
Gen Z seeks connection through music, not perfection. They want to feel seen, not sold to; to be given a story, not a product. At her best, Swift articulated the ache of youth and uncertainty. Now, to her audience, she feels distant, untouchable and overly curated. The irony stems from the fact that her listeners never asked for glitter or grandeur; they asked for something honest, something that reflects the world in which they actually live. Swift’s art once reflected her listeners’ emotional lives; now it flaunts a lifestyle few could ever reach. That shift marks her evolution not as an artist, but as a brand.
Gen Z did not ask for this album, and right now, we certainly do not need it. Sure, “The Life of a Showgirl” is glamorous, but it is not a universal story. What we need now is not a “showgirl,” but rather, an artist willing to step off the stage and sing with us, not above us.