Latest news with #Swiftian
Time of India
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Taylor Swift's new album is rumored to include sharp digs at Blake Lively and Donald Trump with love songs about Travis Kelce
Taylor Swift's new album, 'The Life of a Showgirl,' is creating buzz (Getty Images) Taylor Swift 's surprise reveal of her 12th studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, has set the internet on fire, not only for its unapologetically pop aesthetic but for whispers that it may include pointed references to right-wing figures and even Donald Trump. Multiple outlets say the record will mix glittery sonics with some of the 'dark chapters' Swift has lived through, suggesting a sharper edge beneath the neon. Taylor Swift's 'The Life of a Showgirl' teases bold themes Taylor Swift announced the project in a playful cameo for boyfriend Travis Kelce 's New Heights podcast, flashing a mint-green briefcase and a blurred cover—classic Swiftian misdirection that guarantees fan theorizing. Soon after, she surfaced a Spotify playlist titled 'And, baby, that's show business for you,' a wink that many listeners read as an early mood board for the album. — chartstswift (@chartstswift) Where Travis Kelce fits into the narrative—and why that matters Kelce isn't just a footnote in this era; he's part of the roll-out DNA. The announcement itself leveraged his platform, and reporting hints that the romance inspired portions of the record's warmer, triumphant tones, counterbalancing its bruised confessions. Even as tabloids float the notion of a track joking about a media 'PR stunt,' the broader storyline paints Kelce as the steady presence who helped unlock brighter, bolder songwriting. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Live Update: The Strategy Uses By Successful Intraday Trader TradeWise Learn More Undo It's a savvy cultural crossover: NFL star power meeting pop's most meticulous strategist. The Blake Lively question, the rumored Donald Trump jab, and the showgirl thesis Daily Mail-adjacent chatter claims Swift may lace in barbed observations aimed at political antagonists—possibly Donald Trump—alongside Easter eggs that touch her inner circle, including Blake Lively. None of that is confirmed, but the pattern tracks with Swift's playbook: confessional snapshots, refracted through spectacle, then staged for maximal discourse. Add in the album's title—Showgirl—and you get a thesis about performance itself: how fame turns private struggle into public theater. What feels certain is the scale. Pre-orders are live, a reveal on New Heights is slated, and Swift has primed fans to decode every frame. As ever, she's controlling chaos with craft: teasing visuals, breadcrumbing playlists, and letting the conversation, about politics, friendship, and love—do the heavy lifting until the curtain lifts on the full tracklist. Also Read: 'Just two people that are in love': Travis Kelce hits out at media for twisting his relationship with Taylor Swift Fans can expect neon-lit pop with steel in its spine, an era where Travis Kelce's world intersects with Swift's studio magic, and where the showgirl smile might bare a few teeth. Catch Rani Rampal's inspiring story on Game On, Episode 4. Watch Here!
Economic Times
16-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Economic Times
Is the Taylor Swift–Blake Lively duo finally over? Pop Icon reportedly feels betrayed by 'one word' that dragged her into legal drama
Synopsis Once Hollywood's most iconic besties, Taylor Swift and Blake Lively are now reportedly estranged after Swift's name surfaced in Blake's ongoing legal battle with Justin Baldoni. Sources claim Swift was furious over being called a 'dragon' in court documents. The fallout has left fans heartbroken as Swift reshuffles her inner circle and prioritizes loyalty above all. Agencies Taylor Swift has reportedly refused to forgive Blake Lively after being dragged into a courtroom controversy involving It Ends With Us director Justin Baldoni. They were the epitome of celebrity sisterhood—Taylor Swift and Blake Lively, a duo so tight-knit they felt more like family than friends. Whether it was Taylor name-dropping Blake's kids in her lyrics or the duo showing up hand-in-hand at red carpets and dinner outings, their bond seemed unshakable. But as whispers of betrayal swirl through courtrooms and gossip circles, it appears that even the most glamorous friendships can fracture—possibly beyond to a report from Times of India, the fissures began when Taylor Swift's name unexpectedly surfaced in legal documents surrounding the ongoing lawsuit between Blake Lively and It Ends With Us director and co-star Justin Baldoni. In an effort to deflect attention, court documents allegedly show Lively referring to Taylor as one of her 'dragons'—a veiled attempt, sources say, to use Swift's fame as leverage in her defense. That one word—'dragon'—may have ignited the Bad Blood Swift has now chosen not to forgive. An insider told Radar Online, 'Taylor is fiercely loyal. Once you break her trust, there's no going back. She's deeply hurt that someone so close to her would drag her into something she had nothing to do with.'Despite desperate efforts by Taylor's father, Scott Swift, to keep his daughter out of the legal mess, a judge reportedly ruled that her private messages were relevant to the case. The decision shattered Taylor's resolve to stay uninvolved, and what was once a quiet storm turned into a very public friendship fallout. Fans began noticing subtle signs long before headlines confirmed them. Blake stopped attending Taylor's Eras Tour shows and remained notably silent during several milestone moments. The digital absence was deafening, especially for a friendship so heavily documented online. Sources close to Lively claim the actress is equally shocked at how quickly things spiraled. Some blame Baldoni's legal team for throwing both women under the spotlight, while others suggest Blake underestimated how seriously Taylor would take the betrayal. 'She didn't mean to offend Taylor. It was a bad choice of words, but not malicious,' said a source familiar with Lively's side. 'But Taylor sees loyalty in black and white.'In true Swiftian style, silence speaks louder than any official statement. Taylor has since been spotted dining and laughing with longtime confidantes like Selena Gomez and the Haim sisters—conspicuously without Blake. It's a subtle but powerful signal that Swift's inner circle is undergoing a major realignment. One source told Radar Online, 'Selena wasted no time. She arranged a girls' night the moment she sensed Taylor was hurt. There's a quiet competition now—who stays in Taylor's circle, and who gets pushed out.' Neither Swift nor Lively has publicly addressed the rupture, but fans are reading between every post, every unfollow, and every dinner guest. The image of their once-glittering friendship now stands on shaky ground, a quiet echo of loyalty lost.
The Age
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
Never mind the Kardashians, these are the real superstars
She's walking down Brunswick Street in Fitzroy, not especially dressy, not tattooed or pierced or lavishly blinged. But she's striding out with a mission and feeling pretty good about herself, you can tell. People recognise her and waves of her cachet rock them like buoys as she passes, and they stop and glance back at her and ask their friends: 'Wow, do you guys know who that is?' Then they begin to argue about whether they should run after her and ask for selfies. Or would that be too uncool? Is she a rock star or a rapper? A Swiftian (apologies, Dean) songstress? The scene-stealer in Netflix's latest hit? A winner of Survivor, The Voice or Alone? A novelist banal enough to have broken through into the public consciousness? An influencer monetising a massive online titillation? No. She has spent the past 10 years of her life successfully negotiating with the Malian government and Shell to have lead removed from petrol in that country, thereby saving many, many thousands of lives, essentially doing the work of hundreds of doctors. In the world I'm inventing here, a world where doing good is fame-worthy, she is a superstar. From Fitzroy we fly south across the town, with a bird's-eye view all the way, and descend on the MCG where, sitting in the packed crowd at the footy we see a young, bearded guy in an open collar and a standoff with a scalding dim sim. He's holding the morsel in front of his face, alternately blowing on it to cool it down and snarling at it like a wolf at a wounded elk. A cameraman with an eye for celebrity notices him and zooms in and the broadcaster puts him up on the big screen. The crowd inhales, awestruck, pointing out this epiphany to each other. The young man sprung tussling with his overheated morsel chuckles and waves at the camera, causing the crowd to break into such a tumult of adulation that even the players pause. Some greater attraction than the game is unfolding here, some rarer treat than sport. The players look to the screen and see the young dim sim fan and begin clapping along with the crowd. It's him. Wow. He's here. We are in the presence of greatness. Of someone … great. Who is the young man the stadium is cheering? A VC winner? Some nascent Aussie Springsteen? Some algorithmic maestro who's magicked a start-up into billions? A Hemsworth on a gap year? Soldier? Musician? Actor? Tech tycoon? Who could be adored to this extent? Loading He's a guy who has spent his brief adulthood successfully lobbying billionaires to divert their philanthropy away from look-at-me donations to overfunded galleries to the development of a vaccine for malaria, a breakthrough that will save well over half a million lives a year. In this lovely world I'm momentarily imagining, his commitment to goodness through effective philanthropy has made him cooler than Snoop Dogg. Out in the real world, our world, the one you're sitting in, there are people doing this work – and receiving no recognition for their life-altering achievements. So how do you make doing good a high-status activity, and thus a more common calling? Why isn't goodness as cool as rap? Why are its prodigies unknown? Why do we bestow accolades on Kardashians rather than angels?
Sydney Morning Herald
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
Never mind the Kardashians, these are the real superstars
She's walking down Brunswick Street in Fitzroy, not especially dressy, not tattooed or pierced or lavishly blinged. But she's striding out with a mission and feeling pretty good about herself, you can tell. People recognise her and waves of her cachet rock them like buoys as she passes, and they stop and glance back at her and ask their friends: 'Wow, do you guys know who that is?' Then they begin to argue about whether they should run after her and ask for selfies. Or would that be too uncool? Is she a rock star or a rapper? A Swiftian (apologies, Dean) songstress? The scene-stealer in Netflix's latest hit? A winner of Survivor, The Voice or Alone? A novelist banal enough to have broken through into the public consciousness? An influencer monetising a massive online titillation? No. She has spent the past 10 years of her life successfully negotiating with the Malian government and Shell to have lead removed from petrol in that country, thereby saving many, many thousands of lives, essentially doing the work of hundreds of doctors. In the world I'm inventing here, a world where doing good is fame-worthy, she is a superstar. From Fitzroy we fly south across the town, with a bird's-eye view all the way, and descend on the MCG where, sitting in the packed crowd at the footy we see a young, bearded guy in an open collar and a standoff with a scalding dim sim. He's holding the morsel in front of his face, alternately blowing on it to cool it down and snarling at it like a wolf at a wounded elk. A cameraman with an eye for celebrity notices him and zooms in and the broadcaster puts him up on the big screen. The crowd inhales, awestruck, pointing out this epiphany to each other. The young man sprung tussling with his overheated morsel chuckles and waves at the camera, causing the crowd to break into such a tumult of adulation that even the players pause. Some greater attraction than the game is unfolding here, some rarer treat than sport. The players look to the screen and see the young dim sim fan and begin clapping along with the crowd. It's him. Wow. He's here. We are in the presence of greatness. Of someone … great. Who is the young man the stadium is cheering? A VC winner? Some nascent Aussie Springsteen? Some algorithmic maestro who's magicked a start-up into billions? A Hemsworth on a gap year? Soldier? Musician? Actor? Tech tycoon? Who could be adored to this extent? Loading He's a guy who has spent his brief adulthood successfully lobbying billionaires to divert their philanthropy away from look-at-me donations to overfunded galleries to the development of a vaccine for malaria, a breakthrough that will save well over half a million lives a year. In this lovely world I'm momentarily imagining, his commitment to goodness through effective philanthropy has made him cooler than Snoop Dogg. Out in the real world, our world, the one you're sitting in, there are people doing this work – and receiving no recognition for their life-altering achievements. So how do you make doing good a high-status activity, and thus a more common calling? Why isn't goodness as cool as rap? Why are its prodigies unknown? Why do we bestow accolades on Kardashians rather than angels?
The Guardian
07-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Gracie Abrams review – telling references tied together in a big, bland bow
How do you describe a Gracie Abrams concert in one word? Bows. There are thousands and thousands of them at the O2 Arena tonight, most of them pale pink, and therefore starkly visible among the floor crowd even from seats high-up. Bows are Abrams fans' Swiftian friendship bracelets – a clear identifier of standom that might cause a commuter to text a friend and ask: 'Do you know why there are so many girls with bows at the station?' It's mildly ironic that Abrams' fans are so clearly delineated given that Abrams' tour for her second album, last year's The Secret of Us, rarely feels so distinct. In a live setting, it's hugely apparent that despite her astronomical success – her single That's So True spent eight weeks as UK No 1; she supported on much of Taylor Swift's Eras tour – the 25-year-old hasn't yet carved out her own niche. Anyone just a few years older than the bulk of the crowd – a group that, judging by the pungent smell in the arena, is around that age where you're old enough to sweat but not to have the confidence to ask your parents for antiperspirant – will probably identify Abrams' songs by their reference points. Mixed in with the BO are the distinct scents of the National (Aaron Dessner produced both of Abrams' albums), Lorde, Mumford & Sons and – above all – Swift and Phoebe Bridgers: a nonspecific pastiche using energetically strummed acoustic guitar, quotidian lyricism and precious twig-snap percussion; coffeehouse folk for the contactless delivery era. The songs from The Secret of Us feel richer and roomier in this live setting – Abrams' band thankfully not giving in to arena-pop tropes such as heavy-handed drums or needless guitar solos – and her voice sounds strong and tour fit. But it's impossible to listen to Abrams perform I Love You, I'm Sorry and Risk without wishing you were watching those far superior artists. It may be an issue of scale. Slighter songs on the album, such as I Told You Things, are turned into beefy, rollicking singalongs in this setting, and Abrams delivers every lyric on every song with a goofy, endearing grin, clearly stoked to be here. But in such a large room, backed with relatively sparse production – a tiered stage and a B-stage designed to look like Abrams' bedroom – tedium eventually sets in. Abrams feels like a consummate performer in search of slightly better songs, although the crowd would never let you know – the kids in bows are basically moshing throughout, even when the song doesn't at all warrant it. And hey – successful careers have been built on less.
