In 2013, well before Brat, Barbie, or even a breakout Iggy Azalea feature, Charli XCX told Stereogum's Chris Deville that her follow up to debut album True Romance would be "quite raw," "really aggressive and angry," "more live than anything [she's] done before," and having a "punkish attitude." That project was ultimately shelved - along with, thankfully, a session with Dr. Luke that "wasn't for me" - and instead she released Sucker. Thirteen years later, Charli has finally revisited that vision with her latest LP, Music, Fashion, Film, only this time through the lens of someone with over a decade in the public eye and on the heels of her apictic Brat.
Depending on whom you ask, Music, Fashion, Film isn't actually Charli's answer to Brat; technically, her full-length soundtrack album for Emerald Fennell's Wuthering Heights film was released earlier this year. But the Wuthering Heights record feels more like a side project, shaped by the film's story and Fennell's vision. It seemed like Charli enjoyed working within those constraints, and the end result was still decidedly in line with her general sound, but MFF is her first venture post-Brat that comes fully from her own artistic perspective.
Charli has always been unafraid to veer left - this is an artist who followed up "Boom Clap" with "Vroom Vroom" - so when lead single "Rock Music" kicked off this album cycle. it wasn't a surprise that it ventured pretty far from the material that granted Charli ownership of an entire summer. A sub-two-minute jam with crunchy guitars and a stuttering chorus, "Rock Music" was a warning shot to the new fans brought in by Brat that Charli rarely caters to anyone's expectations. It was a divisive single, with some even thinking it was a joke or a fake-out, pointing to lyrics like "real incestuous vibes" and "I'm really hurting my neck / The nerve damage is real" as proof.
While "Rock Music" did end up being a legitimate lead single, it also was a bit of a misleading one. Music, Fashion, Film is indeed Charli's "rock" album, with every song built around guitars and recognizable influences ranging from Metric to PJ Harvey present, but rarely does it approach the brash abrasiveness of its lead single. In fact, I would argue that Brat and even several other Charli projects (namely Vroom Vroom and How I'm Feeling Now) have more swagger and punk-rock attitude than Music, Fashion, Film. Instead, my main emotional takeaway from this record sonically is a warmth, a sense of comfort and relief.
That pivot starts right away, as album opener "Rock Music" cuts abruptly to fellow single "SS26," defined by its melodic bass line and a delicate vocal delivery from Charli. Then there's "Wink Wink," which sounds more like an early Strokes song than anything off of the Stroke's new album Reality Awaits, which also released today. "Magic Metal Madonna" taps into a similar vibe, sprinting towards a sparkly instrumental break and classic slow-down conclusion. These songs are certainly within the "rock" universe, but they aren't loud or confrontational by any means.
That said, Music, Fashion, Film does have moments more adjacent to "Rock Music." "Card Declined" rides a low-sweeping, grungy guitar riff for most of its run time, giving off a detached vibe aided by Charli's deadpan vocals. The chorus of "Yeah" is basically a burst of distortion coupled with a synth line that, hilariously enough, reminds me first and foremost of the soundtrack to the Sonic Heroes level Casino Park, and "Persona" is a mucky stomp that leans heavily on its guitar riff as well. Admittedly, these are some of the weakest moments on the album - I'm still 50/50 on whether I like "Rock Music," and "Persona" just does not work for me as it plods along aimlessly - but they at least swing for the fences a bit more.
The two finest songs on Music, Fashion, Film in my book come from opposite sides of the genre spectrum. The first, "Camera," is the album's closest neighbor to Charli's more familiar electro-pop sound. There is a guitar riff, yes, but the star of the show are those twinkling synths that light up the chorus. The other, "I'm Afraid," sees Charli pay credence to the likes of modern indie royalty like Alex G and Mitski; an ominous acoustic riff and bone-chilling bass plucks promise an impending doom as Charli reminds us "As we know, I'm insecure." That doom arrives in the chorus; Charli chants through her post-Brat fears of failure and abandonment as searing noise envelops her. By the end, the song is dissolving, with no easy resolution available.
As these two songs demonstrate, there is a degree of tonal whiplash on Music, Fashion, Film. Adding to that feeling are Charli's lyrics and vocals throughout the album. Lyrically, much of MFF highlight's Charli's anxiety on having to follow up her biggest record yet, from her growing interests in other mediums like, well, fashion ("Card Declined") and film ("Camera") to having to live up to the public persona she built on Brat ("Wink Wink"). There are places where her signature cheekiness pipes up, sure, like in "Rock Music" or on "SS26" when she sings " But I didn't do it / Even if I did / Wrote a really good notes app apology." But there's also despair, like on "Camera" when Charli says she's "looking down the barrel of a gun" before telling the holder "fucking shoot me." In those moments, it doesn't feel like a joke at all. In terms of vocal performance, it's perhaps Charli's least expressive album. Despite the raucous sound of a number of tracks, most of the time Charli opts for a chilled-out and at times monotone delivery. Both of these elements remind me of Brat's two most muted tracks, "I might say something stupid" and "I think about it all the time." Thematically, Music, Fashion, Film seems to be riffing off those two more so than anything else across Charli's discography.
Then there's "Nothing Lasts Forever," the album closer that flips everything on its head and features a spoken-word outro from film director David Cronenberg. Backed by a driven pace and upbeat instrumental, Charli finds comfort as she realizes that nothing and no one lasts forever, so worrying about the past is just a way of ruining the present. It's a "carpe diem" anthem that recognizes the liberation that death - literal and metaphorical - provides. "Oblivion is freedom," Cronenberg opines as the instrumental trickles out. Because nothing lasts forever, and that "nothing" includes the pressures of being a pop star like Charli; instead it's better to simply go forth and live. (Of course, with Charli a lover of irony, vinyl versions of this record contain a never-ending loop of this track, so it can in theory last forever.)
Music, Fashion, Film is not Brat, nor did Charli want it to be. We won't be seeing political campaigns adopt its slogan, we won't see a major uptick in black-and-white fashion (a color scheming for this era that seems to be a deliberate contrast to Brat's famous green), and we won't be claiming a second season for Ms. XCX. It's also, frankly, not as well-crafted or polished as Brat was. Too many of its songs run in a straight line structurally, and the vocals are at times disinterested and unmemorable. Even if both of those elements are thematically appropriate, they do limit the album to a degree at the surface level. Despite the ambition and scale a Charli XCX rock album with Martin Scorsese on the cover was capable of, Music, Fashion, Film ended up being a fairly mild product, one that doesn't quite reach the heights that we've come to expect from Charli. At the same time, however, it's still thoroughly enjoyable record with some great songs. Most importantly, perhaps, Charli found herself at a crossroads and made the record she absolutely wanted and needed to make.
