Taylor Swift proclaims on her new album’s fifth track, “Eldest Daughter:” “I’m not a bad b*tch” — but she sure is a savvy businesswoman. With the release of her 12th album, “The Life of a Showgirl,” Swift set a record for first-week sales, selling just over four million album units. Swift and her team capitalized on what The Atlantic’s Spencer Kornhaber called the “unexpected byproduct of streaming:” the growing prestige and popularity of vinyl and CDs.
“Sweat and Vanilla Perfume Portofino Orange Glitter,” “The Shiny Bug” and “Baby, That’s Show Business” are not the names of overpriced cocktails at the latest Atlanta Beltline bar, but rather just three of the 30-plus album variants Swift released for “The Life of a Showgirl.” As of Oct. 8, if you were to buy all of Swift’s offerings, you’d be out approximately $868.12 — a steep price for someone who exposes the fallacies of luxury living in her song “Wi$h Li$t.”
I find this commercial onslaught absurd, but I am not here to criticize Swift. After all, she is just putting the “business” back in showbiz. Her strategy inspired me to consider what albums I would be willing to give an arm and leg for. If money was no object, for these five albums, I would still go broke.
‘Harry Styles’ (2017) by Harry Styles
In 2022, I came across Harry Styles’ self-titled debut album on vinyl in a music store in Seaside, Fla. I promptly purchased the LP and left clutching the pale pink cover to my chest, beaming with pride at the newest addition to my collection. At the time, I did not have a record player.
My dedication to physically owning this album, despite having access via Spotify, demonstrates the very phenomenon Swift and her team profit from. I did not just want to hear the mellow percussion of “Two Ghosts,” the sultry rhythm of “Carolina” or the intoxicating soft-rock swagger drifting across the album’s 10 tracks — I wanted to feel it, touch it and devour it.
Styles’ self-titled album is alluring in its authenticity. Unlike the simple sexuality of his later hit “Watermelon Sugar” (2020) or the buoyant bassline of “As It Was” (2022), his debut record offers familiar yet innovative bangers and ballads. “Only Angel” revels in pounding pleasure as Styles sings, “Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door / I got splinters in my knuckles crawling ‘cross the floor.” Yet, just before this sultry track, Styles reflects on humility atop the warm vibrations of an acoustic guitar in “Sweet Creature.” Though I own a record player now, I think it is time I experience this album on cassette, right?
‘Melodrama’ (2017) by Lorde
Few albums capture the fleeting frenzy of late youth with equal clarity, wit and sincerity as “Melodrama” by Lorde. On the piercing opening track, “Green Light,” Lorde offers a pulsing beat as she attempts to shed the shadow of a former lover. “‘Cause honey, I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let go / I’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it,” she sings. With unbridled honesty, Lorde dissects her teenage years — even the messy parts — without shame or resentment.
Lorde slips between insecurity and indignation, desire and detachment, ecstasy and envy. “Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue / Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession,” she sings on the vibrant track, “The Louvre.” But the sun-soaked high does not linger, and the storm rolls in with “Liability.” “I understand, I’m a liability / Get you wild, make you leave,” Lorde acknowledges. The juxtaposition of these two tracks resting side by side on the record offers just a small glimpse into what makes “Melodrama” pure magic: the captivating collision of adolescence and adulthood.
‘Rumours (Super Deluxe)’ (1977) by Fleetwood Mac
Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks joined Fleetwood Mac in 1974, leading the band toward their U.S. commercial breakthrough with the self-titled album “Fleetwood Mac” (1975). With the haunting “Landslide” (1975) and hypnotic “Rhiannon,” (1975), the band ushered in a new sound — one that would inspire generations of rockstars and popstars alike, including the aforementioned Styles.
However, “Rumours,” their 1977 record, solidified the group’s legendary status. Along with its enduring popularity as one of the best-selling albums of all time, this record finds the band at their best, with members stepping in and out of the spotlight to produce a truly collaborative album. From the strutting rhythm of “Dreams” to the delicate piano of “Songbird” to the ferocious lyricism of “Silver Springs,” each chord, key change and vocal riff nestles inside your body, tucking into the crevices of your ears, hips and stomach. Lust, joy, anger, loss, denial, acceptance — it all seeps in.
‘Older (and Wiser)’ (2024) by Lizzy McAlpine
Despite concerns that Generation Z is scared of sex, our pop girls are certainly not scared of singing about it. For her “Short n’ Sweet” (2024) album tour, Sabrina Carpenter ran to center stage to enact a sensual position each night during “Juno” (2024). Tate McRae’s raunchy performance of “Sports Car” at the Video Music Awards revved many engines online. Even all-American girl Swift worships her partner’s genitalia on “Wood.” But no image of intimacy slices through the sultry haze quite like Lizzy McAlpine’s visceral honesty on “Older (and Wiser).”
On “Pushing It Down and Praying,” McAlpine lies in her discomfort. “I’m in bed, layin’ down, naked / He’s inside of me,” she sings. Inner turmoil builds as McAlpine’s mind wanders away from her present relationship. She wants to feel guilty, to feel anything at all, but she remains numb and motionless. As McAlpine narrates her dissociation, the listener too embarks on an out-of-body experience, looking down upon this scene with tortured empathy.
However, to diminish “Older (and Wiser)” to a portrait of romantic intimacy would be doing a disservice to her artistry. McAlpine’s sophomore album peels back her past while peering into the future. She ponders self-satisfaction, filial obligation and the fragility of memory. For example, on the title track, “Older,” she muses “Over and over, watch it all pass / Mom’s gettin’ older, I’m wanting it back.” With minimal production and penetrating lyrics, McAlpine teeters just on the edge between maturity and madness.
Catherine Goodman (26C) is the Managing Editor of Arts & Life and Editorial Board. She is a double major in English and Art History. She plans to pursue arts and culture journalism, with a special interest in criticism and feature writing. When she isn't listening to music or writing her column, you can find her baking specialty cakes or playing with her dog, Apollo.
