CHARLI XCX’S ‘MUSIC, FASHION, FILM’: A GRITTY POST-BRAT CONFESSIONAL
words by ANOUK WOUDT
Following her cultural takeover painted in bright Brat green, all eyes have been on Charli xcx as we patiently await her next project. Now, Music, Fashion, Film is finally here, and as promised, we’re entering a completely new era for hyperpop’s favourite 365 party girl. Though this is definitely not a rock album– as clarified by Charli herself– it’s obviously a strong detour from Brat’s club-pop persona, sitting pretty somewhere in between dance pop, grunge and indietronica. Gritty guitar riffs and a more intimate, moody atmosphere mix with her signature autotune-heavy vocals and digital PC Music-isms, introducing us to a revamped version of a post-Brat Charli.
Rock Music opens the album, immediately dishing out the rocker girl energy that goes on to become the theme of this Music, Fashion, Film – making it an ideal and all-encompassing introduction. The vibe really outs itself from the very first line: “Me and my friends, we go out, we take pictures and make stuff together,” setting up this project as something borne from the pure enjoyment of creation, rather than a product of the pop industry machine. Despite not truly embodying rock-and-roll as a musical style, the album revolves around the genre as an ethos, imbuing its carefree nature and rough-and-tumble societal critique to each track.
It’s a refreshing change of pace from an industry that rewards caricaturization. Rather than allowing herself to be pigeonholed by her Brat success, she latches onto a complete opposite side of herself. Warped clashes and buzzing distortion create a darker, more toned-down soundscape that feels very fresh to a catalogue defined by glossy pop and upbeat hyperpop blips and bloops.
Throughout the album, a recurring theme paints a picture of Charli’s experience jumping from a name without a face to one of the most recognisable artists of her generation. There is a certain melancholy and existential dread that lingers across multiple tracks, making this album feel like her most drawling yet. One of the most vulnerable songs is Camera, which flickers with a illusionary upbeat rhythm though its lyrics express the difficulties of a life behind a lens. SS26 and Card Declined are also drenched in societal critiques, questioning both the fashion industry’s meaninglessness in the context of a world declining and overconsumerism as escapism used to bring joy but ultimately proves inefficient.
Though vulnerability is nothing new to the Charli xcx anthology, MFF’s version sounds different. Instrumentation replaces glitched-out electronic iterations, using whining, guttural guitar to match longing vocals. In a way, this album feels reminiscent of her COVID-era album, how i’m feeling now, matching it in terms of rawness, acting as its rougher, grungier twin.
Ending with a feature from David Cronenberg – yes, the director – her song No One Lasts Forever is the perfect ending note for an artist who made an entire film dedicated to her fight with fleeting fame and the challenge of longevity (The Moment). The song ends with an excerpt from a conversation between Charli and Cronenberg, as he picks apart the meaning of art and whether longevity even matters, fading out with these repeated words: “They are dead, they are gone, no one lasts forever” — a fitting conclusion to a post-Brat legacy.
