"The Life of a Showgirl," and the Death of Criticism
Has negative art criticism, at large, become socially unacceptable?
In 2020, the now khia, but once popstar, Halsey, tweeted “can the basement that they run p*tchfork out of just collapse already.” The artist was responding to Pitchfork’s review of their 2020 release, Manic, which received a middling score of 6.5/10 (admittedly, a not horrible score). Their tweet underscored a growing sentiment shared by pop stars and their online fanbases that criticism is at best unnecessary – and at worst, should be destroyed. (Not to mention Pitchfork’s office is in the World Trade Center, so please do not let Halsey get on a plane.)
Over the summer, I witnessed a similar post from the chronically mid indie duo Tennis on Instagram go viral. Unlike Halsey’s mocked, and subsequently canonized tweet, people agreed with Tennis’ take.
Titled “My Review of Our Pitchfork Review,” Tennis’ Instagram post tears into writers at Pitchfork for their condescending tone, flouncy writing, and surface-leveling interpretations of their music. Selected cringe includes: “Do these writers know they’re critiquing songs? I’m not writing a dissertation. I have to sing this shit and it has to slap”; “all of [writer Shaad D’Souza’s] complaints feel like nit-picking. And if we’re doing that, he uses the word ‘soporific’ twice.” Bruh. They end their diatribe with the following: “I give music criticism a 6.8.”
Has negative art criticism, at large, become socially unacceptable?
In my first year of design school, I received an incredibly negative piece of feedback from a teacher, regarding my midterm work presentation. “This work indicates you don’t even want to be here.” My instinct upon hearing that was to go into defense. I have put countless hours into my work, of course I want to be here, or perhaps go on an ego-trip; this work is professional! I can understand why Halsey and Tennis would be frustrated to see their bodies of work disparaged by a significant music review website. But looking back on my midterm review, that line was the best piece of feedback I have gotten in my whole life. After sitting with that information for a bit until my disagreement wavered, I was able to take from that what I needed to and pick out what was useful and what was not. Put into question entirely, I changed my design approach. After all, I am here to learn.
The diminishing acceptability of feedback – on a much more public interface – is worrying. From the limp production to the overwrought lyricism, Taylor Swift’s hideous new album The Life of Showgirl, sounds like an AI slop-fest. I curiously searched Google to see what critics were thinking upon release – and what I saw blew me away. Critic’s Pick, New York Times. 5/5 stars, Rolling Stones. BBC: “A triumphant Pop Victory Lap.” What! Is! Going! On!
To defend how bad this album is, here are some selected lyrics:
“And, baby, I’ll admit I’ve been a little superstitious (Superstitious)
The curse on me was broken by your magic wand (Ah)
Seems to be that you and me, we make our own luck
New Heights (New Heights) of manhood (Manhood), I ain’t gotta knock on wood”
(from “Wood,” a song about football player Travis Kelce’s penis)
“Everybody’s so punk on the internet
Everyone’s unbothered ‘til they’re not
Every joke’s just trolling and memes”
(from “Eldest Daughter,” a song which I swear she’s released on an album prior to this)
I believe that these publications fear what could happen if they critique the almighty Taylor Swift. Upon receiving a negative review, writers often receive actual death threats. My close friend, upon writing a 7.0 review for Pitchfork, experienced that treatment. If that happens for a 7.0 – a good score – what about lower? Taylor Swift has an army of fans that she, knowingly or not, manipulates into defending, and attacking for her, all the while extracting their money (remember the Midnights clock, a $50 piece of merchandise that framed four different vinyl album cover variants together in such a way that they became a timepiece. The total value was over $200 – and it was a hit). I believe, given a bad enough review, Swifties could seriously mess up the New York Times.
There is something much more sinister here, though, that extends past music criticism. Taylor Swift is a member of the billionaire class. In 2024, she, like Elon Musk, threatened legal action against a lawfully established website that tracks her private jet flights.
Following the white supremacist Charlie Kirk’s murder, posthumous criticism of his character leads to suppression. Jimmy Kimmel’s brief removal from television happened because Disney/ABC was scared about the financial and political repercussions of criticism of a known Trumpy crony. Or before Kirk’s death, when Jeff Bezos, who owns the Washington Post, censored their endorsement of Kamala Harris in fear that Trump would punish his businesses.
It is not that artists at the scale of Tennis or Halsey have the same control that a billionaire might, but their shared sentiment of cancel criticism is a small disavowal of free speech. We are told, at all levels, that criticism is evil.
It may be parasocial behavior that explains why characters like Taylor Swift or Donald Trump achieve Teflon Don levels of unaccountability. After the billionaire class trampled us, we learned to live vicariously through them. They must be perfect if they are to be our gods. If not, there is no hope. Reactions to Swift and Kelce’s engagement evinced that millennial women see Taylor Swift as their ‘best friend.’ Not to mention Trump, who’s fan/voter base of largely men, see him as a paternal figure – the giver of the love they never received. These demographics seem to be converging as Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce are to wed. Kelce effectively kissed Trump’s ring. Say hello to the white couple of neoliberal Taylor women and Trump-voting men.
Swift, as a role model, is failing women in a similar fashion to how Trump is failing men. “Actually Romantic,” a song responding to Charli XCX’s insecure career-highlight “Sympathy is Knife” (which itself is a song that trumps anything in Taylor Swift’s discography, fight me), is extremely petty, likening Charli, a much smaller artist, to a “chihuahua barking from a tiny purse.” The biggest artist in the world is punching down – and so should you.
In a time when pro-Palestinian protests lead to ICE arrests, it is undoubtable that criticism and protest are extremely vulnerable. It is frightening to see artists and politicians punch down against backlash instead of learning from it. Free speech is at an inflection point. The moment we de-platform critics is when injustice, and bad art, becomes acceptable.
I guess I'll kick off the discussion. I find myself agreeing with the defense of criticism, and it reminds me of what Kelefa Sanneh wrote in The New Yorker recently. It also caused me to pick back up Lauren Oyler’s essay collection on criticism because she identifies Swifties and Charli XCX as opponents of music criticism. Charli wore a t-shirt that said “They don’t build statues of critics” and Tweeted that music reviews are “silly” and “more about the culture or scene that surrounds an artist” or the “sway of culture and popular opinion.”
I agree with Charli that criticism these days—music, movies, even books—seems too often influenced by the vibe around the artist than the artist’s work. In my opinion and experience, Taylor Swift seems to inspire an incomparable fervor among her fans and critics. I famously posted on Instagram’s Threads (@joegustaferro) “Just wired $13 to Shamrock Capital as a thank you for selling Taylor Swift her masters. Who’s with me?” and hours later received a flurry of scolding messages from Swifties and verbal abuse by Swift haters that I had to excuse myself from a first date that was otherwise going well. (There wasn’t a second.)
All this is to say, there’s so much projection around Taylor Swift in particular that it almost seems like she represents Trump, Kamala, the mean popular girl, and the girl “on the bleachers” all at once. I wonder if the real threat to music criticism isn’t online vitriol but instead the fact that there’s so much accessible music and information about artists that audiences can develop opinions by themselves before they even see a review. And then how do we learn?
If you’re an artist, it seems like you don’t need to worry as much about critics anymore, since audiences have probably already decided whether they want to “pledge allegiance to your hands, your team, your vibes.”
Looking forward to reading more!