It’s been a long time coming — and it crashed and burned. When Taylor Swift announced her twelfth studio album “The Life of a Showgirl,” she cranked the hype up to 11. Posting bold pictures of herself dressed up in flashy vaudevillian garb, Swift promised that the new album would contain “melodies that were so infectious that you’re almost angry at it, and lyrics that are just as vivid but crisp and focused and completely intentional.” But when the album finally dropped on Oct. 3, millions of fans took to social media bashing this project for its lackluster lyricism and misleading theme. But is the album as bad as internet critics make it out to be? 

Unfortunately, the critics were right about the theme — or the lack thereof. You can count the amount of “showgirl” tracks on less than one hand but I’m willing to give it a pass since Swift doesn’t really do concept albums. Many of the tracks on this album pack a serious punch sonically. Lead single “The Fate of Ophelia” is memorable with its new wave sound and “Opalite” is a sunny pure-pop track that gives the feeling of clouds parting in the sky. But lyrically, this is not Swift’s best work. She tries out a lot of things that just don’t work for her like the endless references to Kelce’s “redwood tree” in the otherwise catchy 70’s funk track “Wood.” Swift collaborates with Sabrina Carpenter on the album’s title track and it’s clear that she pulled inspiration from Carpenter’s raunchy lyricism. But Swift is usually more conservative than Carpenter when it comes to referencing sex, so her attempt at a change of style here feels childish. “Actually Romantic” has a similar immature vibe; while not the worst lyrically, its Regina George-esque message of “Why are you so obsessed with me?” comes off as more arrogant than confident. The infamous piano ballad “Eldest Daughter” shuns the cruelty of “trolling and memes,” lilting, “I’m not a bad bitch, and this isn’t savage.” No, it is not — especially since no one’s used the word “savage” since 2016. Swift may be intentionally trying to sound cringeworthy here to illustrate the crushing weight of attempting coolness, but on the overly smug “CANCELLED!” she does it again. Over a dark tune that sounds like a “Reputation” refrain, she asks “Did you girlboss too close to the sun?” to her mega-rich friends whose lives were surely ruined by people being mean to them online.

This is not to say that Swift’s lyricism has completely gone down the drain. “Father Figure” showcases Swift’s storytelling abilities as she steps into the role of a money-hungry music mogul whose love for a young star is “pure profit.” Later in the song, the perspective switches to a current-day Swift with the world in her hands. It’s compelling how Swift makes no apologies for the power she wields; every time she whispers “I protect the family” on the gently menacing chorus she feels like a mob boss who just placed his gun on the table. “Elizabeth Taylor” has a similar effect. Over a dark, brooding beat and a rich production, Swift owns her status as one of most successful women in the world. She doesn’t try to make herself relatable; she instead steps into her power and flaunts her wealth with enough swagger for listeners to celebrate her instead of rolling their eyes at her privilege. This confidence and self-awareness is an honest, refreshing departure from the “girl next door” image that’s become too unrealistic for her to push after reaching such drastic heights of stardom. Yet Swift continues pushing that image on the rest of the album: she yearns for a simple suburban life on “Wi$h Li$t” which seems disingenuous coming from a billionaire who certainly does want those “Balenci shades.” She harps on times when the internet beat her down on tracks like “Eldest Daughter” and “CANCELLED!,” but now that she’s on top of the world it feels like she’s victimizing herself to win the listener’s sympathy. But as Swift sings on the album’s theatrical closer “The Life of a Showgirl (ft. Sabrina Carpenter),” she’s immortal now; since she’s in a position where nothing can kill her, it’s grating when she keeps acting like she’s dying. Swift’s lack of self-awareness on parts of this record contributes to the lackluster lyricism. After rising to such an intense peak in her career, what Swift needs most now is to recognize who she has become and to rediscover her authenticity. After all, a showgirl can’t put on a good show if the audience can see through the facade.