brat: tribute and transcendence
Charli XCX’s brat is set to be the album of the decade, with the iconic chartreuse coloured marketing, the pop culture references, the club genre revival, and the Matty Healy-Gabbriette engagement announcement in tow. The album deals with distinct yet universal stories, told simply, but laden with emotion and atmosphere, full of character potraits and profiles, documenting the tale of a 2020s club-rat persona who has never loved or hated the party more. brat is cool, brat is composed, brat is fun. And yet, cracks are starting to show. After a decade and a half of partying Charli XCX is really ready to connect, without ever leaving the party.
Charli set out to make a sonically stimulating and diverse record, and went in with a harsh red pen. Not a single song on this album is without purpose: ‘Club Classics’ and ‘B2b’ serve as classic club bangers to be played in the exact context in which Charli experiences much of the record; ‘Von Dutch’, ‘Girl, so confusing’, and ‘Sympathy is a knife’ discuss the complex interpersonal relationships between women- questioning intentions, resenting your own envy, and speaking directly to somebody who is envious of you. ‘Sympathy is a knife’ sees Charli deliver some of her most emotive vocals to date, belting the chorus with a sort of frustration that can only come from the self-pitying embarrassment brought on by jealousy, as discussed in the song.
‘Apple’ is a thoughtful and reflective song about parents and the complications that come with being similar to them, sharing qualities of theirs that you dislike, and consequently deciding to choose escapism or avoidance as your coping mechanism of choice. The nuance of ‘Apple’ is thought-provoking as it never takes on a hateful or resentful tone, but rather acknowledges that the negative qualities descended from ‘all the apples coming before’, alluding to the cruel trickery of generational trauma, and the helplessness we all have towards our histories. At the core of that song is Charli’s real gift: straightforwardly telling complicated stories, gutting them of all the rubbish, and carving out the profundity to be woven into a song. It reminds me of the way people speak of Joan Didion’s writing, saying she ‘wastes no bullets’, similarly, Charli writes with a knife: precise, cutting, sharp. On the other hand, ‘I think about it all the time’ is a light and airy song exploring motherhood, and its ability to presumably change people in unseen ways. She considers her own desire to become a mother one day, and the existential thoughts she has about the insignificance of her career ‘in the grand scheme of it all’, and simply lands on the statement ‘I think about it all the time’, to encapsulate her stance on the matter.
‘360’ and ‘365’ are respectively the opening and closing tracks on the standard version of the album, with ‘360’ being both iconically arrogant, as well as strangely philosophical, asking the subject ‘When you’re in the mirror, do you like what you see?/ When you’re in the mirror you’re just looking at me,’ a lyric that would be far more analysed had it been written by Thom Yorke. This lyric asks the subject how they feel about themselves, then tells them that their view of themselves is so consumed with Charli that it almost doesn’t matter how they actually feel. Then the zeitgeisty ‘I’m everywhere, I’m so Julia’ follows, and subverts the whole moment of potential reflection, and that’s what this record is about: it’s about embracing the chaos of being a brat, someone who is brash and loud and intense, as well as being vulnerable and pissed off and guilt-ridden. ‘365’ is a reprise ‘360’, and arguably melodically much stronger than its predecessor. The title of the album is finally featured in a lyric ‘Dial 999, it’s a good time/ Who the f*ck are you? I’m a brat when I’m bumpin’ that’, which reveals to us the true meaning of brat, whoever you become when you’re in your unrecognisable state, having fun and phasing out judgement. In a recent interview, Charli describes this song as being a sonic journey through a super-club, entering the corridor, then the main room, the bathroom, and then back inside the main room for the final messy, ugly moments of the track and the album.
The first partying concept album that comes to mind is Lorde’s 2017 Melodrama, which channeled the same carefree energy (on the surface), anchored by moments of gut-wrenching vulnerability, all neatly wrapped up in the album’s narrative of following its protagonist through the night of a party. Although brat is not explicitly a concept album, it certainly encompasses elements of high art in the same way which Lorde’s sophomore album did, which is ironic considering Lorde was revealed as the muse for the ambivalent ‘Girl, so confusing’, even joining Charli on ‘The girl, so confusing version with lorde’.
This remix means a lot to me, as it does to women everywhere. The decision for Charli and Lorde to create this song was not only emotionally mature, but represents a real shift we are hoping to see in culture, one towards humanising other women and navigating our ambivalent dynamics with kindness. It dismisses the tired ‘girl power’ rhetoric, and chooses a more complex and kind response: empathy. Lorde’s verse is vulnerable and open-hearted, discussing being ‘at war with [her] body’, and exploring how her own insecurities led to shady behaviour. The iconic ‘let’s work it out on the remix’ lyric also came from this song, encouraging a wave of cultural discourse on female friendships and conflict resolutions, with some social media users claiming the era of platonic relationships is ‘back’. Lorde’s final line is perhaps the most powerful, ‘Forgot that inside that icon/ There’s still a young girl from Essex’. That is essentially the point, remembering there is a younger version of each person that lives within them, and especially in the case of women, a version which would go on to be broken and battered by the world. Having empathy is the only thing that can keep us compassionate despite the difficulties of being a woman, admittedly it can be ‘confusing sometimes’.
Another really meaningful track on brat is ‘So I’, a tribute to SOPHIE, a close friend and collaborator of Charli’s who passed away in 2021. Charli samples SOPHIE’s song ‘It’s Okay to Cry’, writing the hook in response, saying ‘So I cry’. Perhaps the most devastating part of the song is the way it speeds up several beats per minute for the final chorus, after Charli sings ‘When I make songs I remember/ Things you’d suggest, “Make it faster”’. This moment acts as a sort of vow from Charli to continue SOPHIE’s legacy in her artistic choices, and continuing to perform the songs they produced together despite the pain it brings her, saying ‘On stage sometimes I lie/ Say that I like singing these songs you left behind’. This song is a beautiful homage to SOPHIE’s life and work, another insightful portrait of friendship on this album.
‘Everything is romantic’ is an impressive musical venture for Charli- the song is an ode to Italian summer, in all its trashy (‘bad tattoos on leather tan skin’), ironic (‘Jesus Christ on a plastic sign’), and transcendental (‘fall in love again and again’) glory. The wholesome image ‘four generations make up a family’, the looming and intimidating beauty of ‘Capri in the distance’- it’s unclear whether Charli means ‘everything is romantic’ with a lowercase ‘r’ or capital ‘R’. Somehow the song explores both.
Moving on to a completely different landscape, ‘Mean girls’ is about ‘New York City’s darling[s]’. It explores the brash, beautiful, and unattainable allure of it girls, and 2000s it girl culture, which is undoubtedly making a comeback. The chorus is anthemic and fun, with Charli dedicating the song to all the ‘mean girls’, ‘bad girls’, ‘break-your-boyfriend’s-heart girls’ and ‘tear his sh*t apart’ girls’. Ultimately, Charli knows her audience.
This record is experimental, honest, and concise; it is dance-able, scream-able, and sad. Charli has achieved what artists of all disciplines are constantly trying to reach: getting to the core and sounding good while doing it. Sticking the dagger right into the stone of the fruit, hitting bullseye with an air of ease and authenticity. Because of the effortlessness of this album and era, brat has become a lifestyle, with so many young people resonating with the persona attached to it. This album has taken on a life of its own, and has already lifted Charli XCX into a whole new calibre of artist.