Following up a cultural juggernaut like 2024's 'Brat' was never going to be straightforward. Charli XCX, the British pop provocateur, has chosen to swerve hard with her seventh album, 'Music, Fashion, Film' — a lean, 30-minute collection of 11 guitar-driven tracks that feels less like a bold new direction and more like a hastily assembled sketchbook. The result, while not without its moments, largely fails to register.
The album's lead single, 'Rock Music', sets an inauspicious tone. Its distorted guitars are paired with lyrics that strain for shock value — “Me and my friends, we go out / We take pictures and make stuff together / And sometimes we cry / We kiss each other, real incestuous vibes” — landing as performative provocation rather than genuine wit. The accompanying video, featuring Charli's cigarette-wielding posturing, feels like a tired attempt at rebellion, more try-hard than hedonistic.
An Album of Fleeting Ideas
The record opens with 'Rock Music', but redemption comes quickly with 'SS26', a track that evokes a polished apocalypse and stands as the album's strongest moment. From there, however, the journey is largely downhill. Charli explores themes of identity, self-worth, and the pressures of post-'Brat' fame, but the ideas feel muddled — as if the existential crisis needed more time to mature before being committed to tape.
Most tracks clock in at barely two minutes, leaving little room for development. '2007' and 'Yeah' are vapid and minimalist to the point of irrelevance, while promising songs like 'Card Declined' and 'Camera' end just as they begin to resonate. On 'Camera', a solid hook and a glimpse of self-reflection — “I don't feel embarrassed even if I suck / I'm always craving an experience that feels dangerous” — are cut short, reinforcing the impression of an album that is more a collection of demos than a finished work.
The song 'Wink Wink' encapsulates the album's frustrations. It contains flashes of earworm brilliance but is undone by a stream-of-consciousness style that culminates in grating punchlines. Lines like “I used to lick cream off strawberries in the summer” and “And maybe I fucked your dad... Just kidding, I'm only saying that for effect” feel like the kind of 'banter' that masks a lack of substance. The self-referential flip-flopping ends with “I'm not a bad girl anymore / Wink, wink,” a moment that evokes the insufferable person who deflects criticism with a smirk.
There are fleeting moments of genuine impact. 'I'm Afraid' delivers a gut-punch, and the album closer 'No One Lasts Forever' features an impressive vocal cameo from director David Cronenberg. But these highlights are too few to salvage a record that feels rushed and self-indulgent.
Charli XCX has always been a chameleon, and a pivot after 'Brat' was artistically necessary. But 'Music, Fashion, Film' suggests that the pivot was executed without the care and precision that made her previous work so compelling. For a deeper dive into this week's cultural highlights across Europe, including Charli XCX's album, see our roundup.
In the end, 'Music, Fashion, Film' is a disappointment — not because it isn't 'Brat 2.0', but because it fails to offer a coherent alternative. The album's existential questioning comes across as more self-indulgent than profound, and its brevity feels like a cop-out rather than a statement. For an artist who has repeatedly proven her ability to capture the zeitgeist, this is a rare misstep.
