Gaudy. Gritty. Green. “BRAT” is undeniably ubiquitous (or should I say, so Julia). Although it may seem like a cheap excuse to revitalize and normalize mini-skirts, party culture, and Williamsburg at first glance, there’s so much more to the album—and by extension, the phenomenon of ‘Brat Summer’—underneath the lurid neon green.
Charli XCX’s most streamed and critically acclaimed album “BRAT” was arguably the biggest turning point in her career, catapulting Charli to success paralleling the likes of mainstream juggernauts like Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande—finally transforming Charli’s over 10-year persistence as an artist into tangible fame.
The album is characteristically polar from this year’s most popular music, channeling hyper-pop influences refined and established and refined by influences like SOPHIE—the subject of the track “So I” and Charli’s late friend—and boasting its infamously stark green album cover; its distinctness is clear and is what propelled “BRAT” to what it represents today—unapologetic self-expression, rebellion, and experimentation.
Tracks like “360,” “Club classics,” and “365” embody the more familiar side of “BRAT”: loud, albeit funky tracks using looped and distorted samples with limited lyrics, capturing the catchy and pop-esque with some innovation. Adding and complexifying to the base established by these carefree pop tracks, songs like “Von dutch” and “Mean girls” bring a new dimension to the album’s characterization, putting women at the forefront and emphasizing the power and cultural significance women—like Charli xcx—hold, suggesting some feminist tinges. Though most compellingly—in coexistence with these uplifting confidence bops—“BRAT” taps into the emotional with unexpected deftness. Tracks like “Rewind,” “Girl, so confusing,” and “I might say something stupid” are honestly confounding in an album that flattered clubbing. Charli—with heavy autotune and an Essexian accent—delivers a familiar dose of insecurity. Whether wanting to go back to a time when she didn’t overthink about her image, ambivalent jealousy and insecurity towards a fellow artist, or doubting her fame and influence, Charli steps down from the romanticized pedestal of fame and clubbing, one which resonated so well with her listeners and made “BRAT” the cultural phenomenon it is.
Analyzing “BRAT” with nuance and perspective reveals an album more than deserving of its commercial and critical success, one that allows self-confidence to coincide with insecurity, one that subverts expectations and stereotypes of pop music and its perceived lack of depth. “BRAT” is a real tour de force. Its popularity is due to so much more than our generation’s affinity for Y2K fashion and pop music. Instead, “BRAT” is a preeminent example of the younger generation’s reclamation of emotional maturity and depth—a testament against judging art by its cover, and evidence that so much depth and nuance can be behind an irritating shade of green.
