“Brat” is undeniably one of 2024’s most notable albums, rising to the top of charts and fans’ playlists, all while obtaining massive praise from critics, resulting in its title as the most critically acclaimed project of 2024 (so far). But it isn’t just the accolades, award nominations and TikTok dances that have kept Charli XCX at the top of our minds and charts — “Brat” exists as both an anthem and a mantra, an ode to the party girl who demands to be understood.
With her sixth studio album, XCX has assumed her (365) party-girl persona to its most heightened version, with the project’s rollout being hosted in clubs and amongst DJ sets. “Brat” has the party aesthetic weaved into its DNA. On a first listen, listeners can expect to receive what was advertised to them, with nearly an hour full of entirely unique (to the mainstream) sounds. As songs like “Rewind,” “Club classics” and “360” carve out a unique lane for themselves, it’s no surprise that many of our cars (and Instagram stories) were filled with XCX’s work during the so-called “Brat summer.“
This isn’t to say that the album is entirely upbeat, though. Songs like “So I,” “I might say something stupid” and “Hello goodbye” are all noticeable shifts in pace for “Brat.” They feel like a breath of fresh air that you might get from stepping outside the club or a mild thump you’d hear from outside the bathroom that you waited 30 minutes to get into.
But in the same way that her audience is captivated by the unique visual and sonic aesthetic of the album, XCX is delving deep into the women one might run into at these venues — the girls in the club or speeding down the road — and looking into their eyes. Is what they’re doing a search for a fun night on the town or an escapist mission? The shift is most noticeable on “Mean girls,” the album’s 13th song, which seemingly praises the bullies each of us have encountered in our lives. But even as she lists all of the stereotypes you might throw onto this person, she literally says, “Think you already know her, but you don't,” tossing a not-so-subtle suggestion to listeners that the character of the album (and potentially XCX herself) might not be the person they created in their minds.
This lens is where “Brat” shines, becoming colorful even with a black and white deluxe cover. Though some songs like “Guess” retain mostly the same energy and flirt with the party girl aesthetic, some songs like “Sympathy is a knife” come alive, becoming all-too-relatable as we picture that one person who we might smile at in the halls but really wish would leave us alone. “Talk talk” goes from a fun moment out with your friends to a reality check on situationships that might have gone on a little too long without being recognized by the other party.
My favorite example of one of these more sensitive songs is also TikTok’s current obsession. “Apple,” which has taken over all of our "for you" pages with 1.5 million videos using the song, has an entirely different meaning when you look at its lyrics. Still catchy, it takes on a new life in this reading, switching from a fun dance to do with your friends and becoming an almost tragic reflection on family. XCX sings about her inability to forget the damage that her family has done to her inner person (her seeds) even as she tries to acknowledge the unique and potentially damaging pasts that make each of them (as apples with different shapes and colors) the people they are.
Charli XCX thrives in times in between — like the weeks in September when the air is only a little crisp, when you’re neither distinctly in the summer or the fall. That ambiguity is at the core of the “brat” persona: someone who may not be entirely understood, but simultaneously asks to be explored.
