The merch says “Eras Tour,” though “Erathon Tour” would be more fitting. It’s a 3½-hour powerhouse, ranking among the longer half of the extended “Lord of the Rings” cuts. Attendees missed the endurance memo, dancing at sprinter’s pace. By the time “Midnights” hit, traditional applause was replaced by desperate gasps for air.

The “Eras Tour” is an act of strategic exhaustion. Consider just a few songs that didn’t make the cut: “Mean,” “Mine” and “Red.” Taylor Swift, ever the mastermind, knows any set list would omit some favorite to the disappointment of at least one adoring disciple. The only way we won’t leave wanting more is to leave us panting, “Please, Taylor, no more.”

Maybe I should have been unimpressable by this point, but I found my mouth agape at “The Last Great American Dynasty.” It was not subtle lyrics that slacked my jaw (this time), but Swift clearly feeling both the ability and need to perform “Dynasty” for sold-out stadiums.

For the rest of our days, you and I may not see another who can compose complex downtempo, historical/biographical fan-fictional lyrics and coax them like this out of the burning lungs of dozens of thousands of simultaneously screaming superfans. Any self- respecting comic convention would be envious.

Should Swift try to hide the obvious reveling revealed in her sly grin? A certain erstwhile nemesis said it’s hard to be humble when you’re stuntin’ on the jumbotron. Acrisure’s wasn’t big enough, so Swift brought her own even jumbo-er-tron. What a flex.

Zachary Barber

Squirrel Hill

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