When BRAT became a cultural phenomenon in 2024, the obvious move would have been to capitalise on its neon-green success with another collection of club-ready anthems. Charli xcx has never been interested in the obvious. Instead, Music, Fashion, Film is a deliberately confrontational left turn: a 30-minute record that trades rave euphoria for jagged guitars, warped electronics, and an often uncomfortable examination of celebrity, creativity, and self-mythology.
Opening track “Rock Music” immediately dismantles expectations. Rather than chasing another “360” or “Von Dutch,” Charli leans into crunchy indie-rock textures while longtime collaborators A.G. Cook and Finn Keane twist familiar hyperpop production into something abrasive and unpredictable. The result is less about finding a new genre than proving that genres themselves have become meaningless in Charli’s world.
Lyrically, this is perhaps Charli’s funniest album, but also one of her most revealing. Songs like “Card Declined” and “I’m Afraid” transform everyday anxieties into absurdist pop theatre, while “Camera” wrestles with the blurred line between public persona and private identity.
What makes Music, Fashion, Film compelling is its refusal to smooth over contradictions. One moment the album feels like a tongue-in-cheek parody of rock stardom; the next it’s delivering startling emotional honesty. This ambiguity may frustrate listeners hoping for another BRAT, but it’s precisely what gives the record its staying power. Every listen reveals another sarcastic lyric, another buried synth line, another production detail hiding beneath the distorted guitars.
Production remains the album’s greatest strength. Despite its rougher aesthetic, the record is meticulously constructed. The collision between noisy guitars, machine-like drum programming, shimmering synths and heavily processed vocals creates a sound that feels simultaneously nostalgic and futuristic. It’s chaotic, but never careless.
Not every experiment lands; some tracks prioritise concept over memorable songwriting, making the half-hour album feel more like an art installation than a fully realised pop statement. Listeners might find its irony exhausting or wish Charli committed fully to either rock or electronic styles. Yet, these imperfections are the point. Music, Fashion, Film prioritises artistic freedom over commercial precision, rejecting algorithmic polish for something stranger, messier and far more personal.
Listen to Music, Fashion, Film:
