Charli XCX has single-handedly rendered it impossible to associate the color neon green with anything other than her latest release, “BRAT.” Her sixth studio album, released on June 7, has received generous critical acclaim online, where fans have decided BRAT isn’t just an album, but a lifestyle — coining the term “‘BRAT’ summer.” “BRAT” delves into themes of insecurity, obsession, friendship and fame all while reeking of Parliament Lights, hard drugs and the dance floor of a strobe-lit nightclub — successfully illustrating an image of womanhood in the modern era.
Cambridge-born Charlotte Aitchison began releasing music in 2011 at the age of 19. Since then, the British musician has been a pioneer of hyperpop and experimentalism. After her big break “I Love It,” co-written with Icona Pop, she featured on Iggy Azalea’s 2014 Billboard No. 1 hit “Fancy.” More recently, her fifth album, “Crash,” a concept record about becoming a sell-out pop star, topped the charts, while her 2023 single “Speed Drive” was a highlight on the “Barbie” soundtrack.
The first track on BRAT, “360,” opens with her signature auto-tuned montone and bubbly beat — a fun yet digestible introduction to what Charli has to offer. Fan-favorite “Talk Talk,” tackles verbosity — language as a form of confession and means of communication. Lead single “Von Dutch,” produced by EasyFun, describes being an object of gossip or obsession for people around you and embracing it. She sings in the infamous first line: “It’s alright to just admit that I’m your fantasy / you’re obsessing, just confess it ’cause it’s obvious,” further imbuing her brat persona. My personal favorites off the record are “Sympathy is a knife” and “B2b,” in which Charli bares some of her most conflicted emotions over an addictive beat and playful production.
In an interview with “The Face,” Charli said, “I kinda miss the time when pop music was really volatile and crazy. I miss the Paris Hilton days. Everybody is so worried about everything right now, how they’re perceived, if this art they’ve created is going to offend anyone. It limits creative output to think like that.”
“Girl, so confusing” offers a refreshing outlook on womanhood. Charli admitted to comparing herself to Lorde, another alternative-pop artist operating at the same time and in the same spaces as Charli. “She had big hair; I had big hair,” she said in an interview with “Rolling Stone.” The song interrogates how gendered comparison and jealousy can hinder growth and potential. “It’s so confusing sometimes to be a girl,” she states plainly. The lyrics are as clunky as they are earnest. It’s raw and unfinished, but she wants us to know that’s intentional on her part.
The songwriting makes some of the tracks underwhelming. I cannot see myself returning to “Rewind,” in which Charli finds herself pining for simpler days when she didn’t worry about her appearance or chart placement, but ultimately feels like a weaker reinterpretation of her 2018 hit “1999.” It is clear to me how tracks like these are intended to be part of the emotional core that elevates this album past generic pop, but the lyrics read as plainly as a diary entry, making it difficult to resonate with. Similarly, the awkward lyricism of “Mean girls” might have been saved by a catchy beat, but was not.
The trajectory of “BRAT” shifts with “I think about it all the time.” Sandwiched between two party-girl anthems, Charli sings about the possibilities and paranoias of motherhood. Where does motherhood fit in her career as a pop-star? While “BRAT” is undeniably bold and brash, songs like this make it remarkably vulnerable and relatable. The confessional feel contributes to the track’s emotional resonance, but it doesn’t compel me to listen to the song again.
“BRAT” concludes with an amalgamation of the entire album, “365,” accompanying us through all the emotions of a night out — excitement, euphoria, instability and most importantly, dance! “BRAT” successfully captures a universal feeling in our cultural climate: partying as a means to veil feelings of the world around you. But sometimes following these moments of existentialism you just have to say “f*ck it,” as exemplified by “365.”
The heart of “BRAT” is its oscillation between gut-wrenching vulnerability and arrogant pretention. “BRAT”’s addition to VP Kamala Harris’s presidential campaign raises questions about the politics of pop music, highlighting music’s role in enacting social change and also how important it is to recognize the power young people have in our democracy.
“I get tired of behaving in a way that people expect me, or expect pop stars, to behave. I’m not a role model — and I never did this because I wanted to be.” Charli XCX said to “The Face.” “But I understand it comes with the territory. I am a role model for a very flawed, genuinely real, non-perfect person. And that’s all I would ever want to be.”
This is the energy — defiant, empowering and of course, bratty — that runs throughout the backbone of this body of work.
