Swiftie Feeling Alienated by the Enormous Scale of the Eras Tour

You don’t need to have attended Taylor Swift’s Eras tour to be aware of its enormous impact. Over the span of 18 months, this tour has become a global phenomenon, with tangible effects on economies, infrastructure, and policy. The closest historical comparison might be the Great Exhibition of 1851, although Taylor’s showcase focuses solely on the creations of Taylor Alison Swift.

The fact that this entire phenomenon is driven by just one woman is astonishing. It underscores Swift’s extraordinary talent and the close bond she has fostered with her fans. I began listening to her in 2011, enchanted by the whimsical allure of “Love Story.” My admiration for her only grew from there. Many of my cherished friendships were formed on the foundation of a shared love for her music—a testament to the positive cycle created by Swift’s genuine expression and vulnerability.

Yet, this year I’ve felt a growing sense of alienation from my favorite artist. I no longer feel like just a fan but more like a conscript, drawn into a vast exercise of streaming, spending, and posting to bolster her cultural dominance. It’s hard to fathom who might ever topple her from this pedestal.

Barclays estimated that the average attendee of the Eras tour spent nearly £850 on tickets, travel, accommodation, and other expenses, including £79 on official merchandise. Cities hosting her tour have even renamed themselves in her honor. While The Beatles once joked about being bigger than Jesus, Swift’s influence is genuinely monumental, often compared to land masses in terms of GDP or earthquake magnitude.

This overwhelming cultural tide makes it difficult to maintain my personal connection to her music. It might seem as though I’m begrudging her success, wishing she remained the artist she was before she achieved this level of fame. But what’s most unsettling is the feeling that Swift isn’t just overexposed but is actively seeking to monopolize the spotlight.

The Eras tour has already become the highest-grossing tour in history, generating $1 billion last year, with an additional $261 million from a concert film. Despite more than 100 sold-out shows, she hasn’t slowed down. Earlier this year, her email subscribers were given a chance to “win the opportunity to buy” tickets for £160 each, provided they purchased her new album, “The Tortured Poets Department,” which came with a surprise second disc of mostly forgettable songs. This was followed by multiple variants, each sold separately, seemingly aimed at securing streaming supremacy. When Swift announced a UK-specific release of additional album tracks, it was widely perceived as an effort to maintain her position atop the charts, often at the expense of artists like Charli XCX.

As the most prominent celebrity globally and a billionaire on track to earn $2 billion by the end of her tour, the notion that Swift might feel threatened or unsatisfied is disconcerting, raising questions about her motivations. Even glowing reviews of her tour ponder her endgame and what’s next for her.

I experienced the Eras tour in Edinburgh, with a big group of friends—a night I will never forget. However, compared to her previous tours, this one felt designed to emphasize her unbeatable success, showcasing her extensive back catalogue and superhuman stamina. During one song, “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart,” she goaded the audience by saying she could be miserable and they wouldn’t notice.

From the crowd, it was a strange moment: a star admitting to sometimes finding performing unbearable, yet continuing to do so night after night for two years. Even other A-list performers seem to view Swift’s regimen with skepticism. Billie Eilish described three-hour shows as “literally psychotic,” while Lana Del Rey attributed Swift’s success to her unparalleled ambition.

Despite my enjoyment, I felt uneasy, as though I were part of a brand activation event like those staged by corporate giants Nike or Apple. Friendship bracelets being traded felt more like brisk commercial transactions than genuine fan camaraderie.

My feelings were echoed by culture writer Jonah Weiner, who described the insidious “co-opting of ‘community’ into a sales strategy.” Although Weiner discussed luxury fashion brands, his point about corporate interests hijacking our desire for connection resonated with my experience of the Eras tour.

The supposed community built around the Eras tour is rooted in economic productivity. Like a queue for the latest Apple product, it offers meaningful interpersonal connections only incidentally. Restrictions on political signage at her shows and the muted criticism of her private jet usage exemplify how these broader conversations get sidelined.

I don’t wish to undermine the joy millions have found in her performances or the friendships forged through Swift fandom. My concern is that, in our intense focus on the Eras tour, we might be overlooking other sources of community and connection—sources that don’t contribute to a billionaire’s wealth. What will become of these connections when the Taylor Swift show moves on?

Source: The Guardian