In the summer of 2021, between the release of her pandemic-era do-it-yourself project how iām feeling now and Crash her self-described āmajor label sell-out recordā, Charli xcx wondered aloud with declarative intent whether hyperpop might be dead. Yet while Crash eschewed the maximalist tendencies of the label, with its bubblegum snap, goody bag choruses, compressed vocals and sickly synthetic sheen, trading instead in crunchy eighties power pop with funk stylings and a sometimes tender tread, in truth how iām feeling now had already put the cap on the genre with its atypically raw emotional candour, breathy voice messages and fan collaborations, and a real sense of creeping quietude and sober pensiveness which captured the tenor of the moment amid all of the one-arm-reaching-out, dancing on my own, kaleidoscopic ferris wheel mayhem.
After adorning old robes and playing the diva, Brat proves a tight little raver whose labour-intensive fifteen songs belie a shifty minimalism. Turning back the dial to some of her own past experiments as well as the club music of her youth, the album revisits electroclash and French house in the vein of artists like Peaches and Alan Braxe while also evoking both lyrically and sonically the insular scabrousness of My Teenage Dream Ended by Farrah Abraham and Yeezus.
Bounding out of the gates with ā360ā, which immediately posits Charli xcx in the middle of a pop-cultural maelstrom, whose retrograde music video longs for a bit of the simple life while featuring the multi-hyphenate models, actresses and influencers Chloe Cherry, Julia Fox, Rachel Sennott, Emma Chamberlain, Hari Nef and Alex Consani plus the enduring itness of the slubbily ethereal ChloĆ« Sevigny, on āClub classicsā the artist and her longtime collaborator A. G. Cook dive deeper into the pit, on a track whose bouncy bass and synths carry an over-revved quality which calls to mind the recent efforts of Vladislav Delay in the form of his five-part extended plays Dancefloor Classics and Hide Behind The Silence.
āI might say something stupidā is a snagging ballad and the singer repeats āIām your number oneā on the insistent and rotorised āVon dutchā, as part of a collection which is much more intimate than the bombastic release cycle would have it appear. āRewindā offers a bargain basement list of self doubts, elevated by her penchant for euphoric kicks and snappy hooks yet explicit in its prosaic mundanity. Through fractured guilt, āSo Iā pays tribute to SOPHIE and the sweetly crabby āAppleā runs from rot in the tree, while the cut-up melody of the Brat standout āB2bā is hopelessly buoyant.
Then the penultimate track āI think about it all the timeā concerns a brisk visit to Stockholm where she meets a friendās newborn for the first time, as Charli xcx contemplates the practicalities and wider prospects of parenthood, wondering whether she should stop her birth control and dipping a toe into early-thirties anxieties before a reprise of ā360ā reels with more of an undertow as the singer at least for now keeps on bumping.