It’s a good day to be a Swiftie, but these days, that’s hardly unusual.
On Friday, Taylor Swift released “The Life of a Showgirl: The Encore,” a deluxe version of her 2025 album, featuring four brand-new tracks. Two days later, the music video for “Patient Zero” will premiere at the MTV Video Music Awards.
Now, “The Life of a Showgirl” is far from my favorite album, but I’m hardly the type to turn down fresh music. Indeed, “It’s a good day to be a Swiftie” has almost become a stock phrase in my Swift-friendly group chats, thanks to the pop star’s peerless prolificacy.
Swift has released five studio albums in the last six years alone, in addition to four “Taylor’s Version” rerecords and a generous helping of No. 1 hits. She announced the “Showgirl” deluxe on Wednesday — shocking and delighting fans who didn’t expect to receive new music so soon.
Of course, as with everything Swift does, it’s a polarizing move. Not everyone is quite so charmed by her output.
There’s a popular, exasperated narrative that’s plagued Swift since the 2023-2024 Eras Tour dominated the cultural landscape and became the highest-grossing tour of all time. It also yielded two concert films, a docuseries, a best-selling book, and two new albums: Swift released the 31-track behemoth “The Tortured Poets Department” in the middle of her two-year trek, and its successor, “Showgirl,” mere months after her final bow.
Now, a year after she pledged that its 12-song tracklist was set in stone, Swift has added four more songs — written and recorded during a celebratory trip with her Swedish collaborators, she said, after “Showgirl” sold more copies in its first week than any other album in history.
“Really, we just wanted to reflect and take in how grateful we were for the moment we were in,” Swift explained in her announcement, “but there was a studio there, and we did what we do when we feel anything at all: We wrote more songs.”
So the popular narrative among critics — and people who find her annoying — goes something like this: Taylor Swift is doing too much. She’s too obsessed with attention. Can’t she just ease up, chill out, and take a break for once?
As a music lover, it’s a strange thing to hear. Why wouldn’t I want to listen to new songs by talented artists? The complaint probably sounds even stranger to Swift, who patently loves writing songs and enjoys sharing the fruits of her labor with the world.
God forbid a woman is a workaholic.
It’s silly to criticize a musician for doing — and loving — her job
Swift has already addressed those most weary and vocal critics: “I think there are certain corners of our society that really… look up to longevity,” Swift told Stephen Colbert last year. “There are also corners that are like, ‘Give someone else a turn! Can’t you just go away so we can talk about how good you were?’ And I’m like, ‘I don’t want to.'”
Swift’s passion, drive, and devotion to her craft are evident in her uber-productivity. Rarely is she guilty of churning out slop with little intention or effort. When Swift receives meaningful, constructive criticism, she often applies those notes to her next project. At the same time, regardless of reviews, Swift stands by her work and relishes her creative process. Like so many successful leaders, she allows both cynicism and enthusiasm to feed her ambition.
And among pop giants, prolificacy is hardly unique to Swift. When I was growing up, Britney Spears released her first four albums — all genre-defining blockbusters — in less than five years. The Beatles released two albums a year for three years straight. Dolly Parton released 17 studio albums in the 1970s alone.
Songwriters frequently say that making music isn’t an obligation, but a lifeline; it’s their way of processing emotion and understanding the world. No one embodies that more earnestly and vigorously than Swift. She has spent 20 years pouring her inner life into art for public consumption, drawing mockery and slut-shaming and everything in between. Still, she carries on exposing her deepest fears, her most precious memories, and her intimate fantasies.
‘Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes’
This isn’t to say that every song Swift has released is a winner, or that quantity always begets quality. I could’ve gone my entire life without hearing “London Boy,” or “Bejeweled,” or “Wood,” and I’d probably be healthier for it. “Showgirl” is a particularly poor display of discernment (though in retrospect, I’m tempted to blame tour-induced girlboss burnout).
Despite my distaste for these duds, however, I’m grateful for the gems they sit alongside, from “Cruel Summer” to “Sweet Nothing” to “Father Figure.” Swift likes to roll the dice. Her catalog is vast, varied, and ever-expanding — and it’s hard to imagine why anyone would work this hard or endure so much hostility if not for pure love of the game.
It’s not really necessary. Compare Swift’s past decade to that of other modern superstars, like Rihanna and Frank Ocean: Rihanna has continued to build her wealth through makeup and fashion ventures, rather than music. Ocean has released a handful of singles and largely kept out of the spotlight. Both have remained beloved and relevant, even though neither has released an album since 2016. Theoretically, Swift could take either of those routes. But as a fan of all three musicians, I prefer Swift’s approach. It’s way more fun.
Yes, Swift is an unapologetic capitalist, a millennial disciple of hustle culture. But if making money were her sole objective, she could easily release a cash grab with minimal strain — perhaps an Eras Tour live album (I’d buy it), or a first-anniversary edition of “Showgirl” with nothing more than flashy new packaging. Instead, sans any pretense or expectation, Swift presented four new songs for us to enjoy, to analyze, and, for many, to pick apart with ruthless glee.
During a recent career retrospective at the Grammy Museum, Swift was asked how she navigates the ever-intense public scrutiny of her work. She replied with characteristic gusto.
“I go through several processes and coping mechanisms,” Swift said. “And one of them is saying, ‘You chose this. You chose this every day. You could have opted out of this any day before it got unmanageably big.’ And I decided not to because I love it that much.”
“Everything that comes with this ultimately is worth it,” she added, “as long as I get to still make music.” Hear, hear.
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