Charli XCX “Brat and It’s Completely Different but Also Still Brat”
Charli XCX’s double whammy “Brat” and its successor “Brat and It’s Completely Different but Also Still Brat” doesn’t just toy with pop conventions; it takes a scalpel to them, slices the thing wide open, and revels in the viscera.
In the words of Charlotte Emma Aitchison herself, it’s about “fucking around, falling in love, falling out of it, but mainly just fucking around” – and you’d better believe Aitchison. There’s a bratty, gleeful sense of destruction and reimagining at work here, akin to a teenager in a vintage Chanel suit tearing up a punk club—polished yet utterly unruly, just the way we like it.
One can’t help but hear the ghosts of pop’s past sneering alongside her, but this is more than pastiche or retromania—it’s a calculated self-immolation. Charli knows her lineage and weaponizes it, nodding to Gwen Stefani’s L.A.M.B. one second and to Björk’s postmodern sonic disarray the next. Brat isn’t just bratty in name; it’s audaciously unapologetic, loud, and glitter-streaked like the club at 3 AM, where pleasure and pain blur into a post-hyperpop ether. Thomas Venker might describe it as “a chaos of synapses firing off in impossible directions,” and he wouldn’t be wrong—there’s a sense that Charli is willfully short-circuiting her own sound, daring listeners to keep up.
Charli’s utter disdain for self-seriousness is a slap in the face to those who’d categorize pop as something frivolous or pre-packaged. It’s her sheer refusal to grow up, to settle down, that makes these records as riveting as they are. It’s a bubblegum-gumshoe world, and Charli plays both the hero and the antihero, letting the candy melt on her tongue before spitting it out with a smirk. Burchill would recognize the steel beneath the sparkles, the sneering anti-purity in lines like, “I’m not your candy but I taste sweet, don’t I?”
Meanwhile, “Brat and It’s Completely Different but Also Still Brat” , Charli shifts gears without losing the manic momentum of its predecessor. Here, the brat is in a slightly different mood: maybe a little wiser, but still drunk on her own contradiction. One might hear echoes of the Situationist trickster in her refusal to repeat herself, her impulse to tear down her own mythologies. If Brat was Charli’s manifesto of unruliness, It’s Completely Different is the sound of her ripping it up, only to scribble all over it again with a fresh set of Sharpies. It’s a diary written in neon ink on your bedroom wall, a blistering celebration of impermanence and everything that can’t be pinned down.
It is simply beautiful to see how Aitchison with “Brat and It’s Completely Different but Also Still Brat” explores a darker but still saturated world—a place where synths buzz like neon motel signs and the bassline throbs with a melancholy urgency, like heartache on the dancefloor. Charli leans into the tension between her larger-than-life persona and moments of surprising introspection. It’s like she’s halfway through tearing off her glittery armor, but then thinks, “nah,” and glues it right back on, just for the hell of it.
It’s not just that she’s the Brat, but that she’s redefining the very essence of what that means in pop music—taking that term, subverting it, and holding it up like a cracked mirror to the scene that’s always tried to figure her out. It’s a self-destructive spectacle, but Charli’s the one holding the match, cackling as she tosses it over her shoulder and walks away, platform boots leaving imprints in the ashes. These two albums stand together as her most audacious statement yet: both complex and chaotic, both introspective and irreverent, Brat and It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat dare you to take them seriously, even while they’re spitting in your face. And if you don’t? Well, that’s your loss, mate.
“Brat and It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat” – a Track-by-Track
1. “360” (feat. Robyn & Yung Lean)
A pulsing, electronic heartbeat introduces us to a world where romance and regret tango under the glimmering city lights. Robyn’s voice slices through like a cool breeze, a lullaby for the digital age, while Yung Lean’s verses float in, as if broadcast from a distant radio station in a parallel universe. It’s a rain-soaked love story, all chrome reflections and glitchy confessions, where heartache is both immediate and forever out of reach.
2. “Club Classics” (feat. Bb trickz)
Imagine a retro-futuristic club, basslines snaking like neon serpents around bodies moving too fast to catch. Bb trickz and Charli trade off verses like two thieves in the night, pilfering the past for one more groove. The beat feels like a soundtrack to the wild chase through Tokyo’s back alleys, glittering with promise and danger. This is the kind of track that’s best heard when you’re on the run, when your heart pounds in time with the beat, and the night stretches out like a tunnel of endless possibilities.
3. “Sympathy Is a Knife” (feat. Ariana Grande)
Ariana’s voice here is a razor wrapped in velvet, cutting through layers of synths that ripple like the surface of a digital ocean. She transforms Charli’s raw confessions into a noirish meditation on the pressures of stardom, each line delivered with the cool precision of a film noir detective. The result is a track that glimmers like a hidden knife in a jewel-toned clutch, turning the concept of vulnerability into something both seductive and dangerous.
4. “I Might Say Something Stupid” (feat. The 1975 & Jon Hopkins)
The original’s hazy introspection is dialed up to full cinema-scope melancholy here, like a late-night monologue delivered from the top of a rain-drenched skyscraper. The 1975 lend their trademark melancholy, while Jon Hopkins lays down ambient textures that feel like fog rolling through an empty cityscape. It’s as if Charli is wandering the streets alone, speaking her truths to no one but the ghostly echoes of the night.
5. “Talk Talk” (feat. Troye Sivan)
Troye and Charli’s voices intertwine like the threads of a lost love letter. The production crackles with energy, but there’s a fragility to it too, like neon lights that hum just before they burn out. It’s all about that push and pull, the way they tease each other with breathy admissions and shimmering beats, creating a song that’s as bittersweet as catching a last glimpse of summer through a rain-streaked window.
6. “Von Dutch” (feat. Addison Rae)
Imagine a fluorescent carousel spinning in an abandoned amusement park—A.G. Cook’s remix is all dizzying highs and lows, with Addison Rae’s voice cutting through like a sugary buzz. The beat snaps and twists, like bubblegum caught in the spokes of a speeding bike, creating a vibe that’s equal parts innocence and defiance. This is the sound of neon dreams turning sour, yet you can’t help but take another spin.
7. “Everything Is Romantic” (feat. Caroline Polachek)
Caroline Polachek’s voice floats through this track like a ghost in a pink silk gown, echoing through the grand halls of some haunted pop mansion. It’s less epic than the original, more introspective, a whispered confession between two lonely souls at a candlelit bar. It’s the kind of song you listen to when you’re tracing your finger along the rim of an empty glass, remembering someone you can’t quite forget.
8. “Rewind” (feat. Bladee)
This remix feels like watching VHS tapes on a cracked screen, the past bleeding into the present with a melancholy fuzziness. Bladee’s voice warps through the production like a phantom, bringing a sense of detachment that makes the nostalgia even sharper. It’s all about missed connections and memories that slip through your fingers, like water down a drain in a midnight motel bathroom.
9. “So I” (feat. A.G. Cook)
A.G. Cook’s remix is pure chaos, like riding a rollercoaster through a digital funhouse. The track’s rhythm shifts and stutters, but there’s a sweetness to it too—a sense of reckless joy as Charli dances through each twist and turn. It’s the sound of a sugar rush crashing against a wall of distortion, leaving you breathless and wondering if you want to go again.
10. “Girl, So Confusing” (feat. Lorde)
Lorde’s verses slide in with a smoky, late-night charm, adding a dash of mystery to Charli’s confessions. Together, they create a track that feels like driving through the rain with the windows down, trying to make sense of a love that never quite fits. The production bubbles and swells, but there’s always that underlying tension, like they’re chasing something they can’t quite reach.
11. “Apple” (feat. The Japanese House)
The Japanese House brings a wistful, watery vibe to this remix, like sinking into a warm bath after a long, cold day. Charli’s voice is submerged in layers of reverb, creating an atmosphere that feels like floating between dreams. It’s intimate and nostalgic, a quiet moment in an album that’s often more about the thrill of the chase.
12. “B2B” (feat. Tinashe)
Tinashe’s sultry energy amps up this remix, turning it into a sweat-drenched dance floor anthem. It’s all about the tension, the way they trade off verses like hands brushing against each other under flashing lights. The beat pulses like a heartbeat, driving you forward, refusing to let go until you’re lost in the music.
13. “Mean Girls” (feat. Julian Casablancas)
Julian Casablancas croons with a sardonic drawl, giving this track a gritty rock ‘n’ roll edge. It’s an unexpected pairing, but the contrast works—like two characters who meet by chance in a smoky bar, exchanging secrets over shots of cheap whiskey. The guitar riffs are sharp, the synths blurry, as if seen through the bottom of a glass. It’s raw and imperfect, but that’s exactly what makes it shine.
14. “I Think About It All the Time” (feat. Bon Iver)
Bon Iver brings a shiver of winter air to this track, turning it into a haunting ballad that lingers like the last light of a dying sunset. His voice melds with Charli’s, creating a sense of warmth despite the chill. It’s a song for solitary walks through empty streets, hands deep in your pockets, lost in thoughts that seem to circle back on themselves.
15. “365” (feat. Shygirl)
Shygirl’s bold delivery makes this track a wild ride, like a motorbike revving through neon-lit alleys. The beat is relentless, pushing forward with the speed of a midnight joyride, while Shygirl and Charli’s voices intertwine like graffiti on concrete walls. It’s dangerous, thrilling, and absolutely addictive.
16. “Guess” (feat. Billie Eilish)
Eilish’s whispery vocals draw out the shadows in this remix, creating a vibe that’s as unsettling as it is beautiful. The production is sparse, like footsteps echoing down an empty hallway, leaving plenty of space for Charli’s raw emotion to spill out. It’s the kind of track that leaves a mark, like a lipstick stain on a cigarette butt, lingering long after it’s over.
Charli XCX’s remix album is like a hazy fever dream you wake up from at 3 AM, clutching at the fragments before they slip away. It’s glamorous, dangerous, and dripping with a dark kind of sweetness—a neon noir fairy tale where every beat tells a story, and every story hides a secret .