Charli xcx Takes a Sharp Turn with Music, Fashion, Film

When Charli XCX walked out for her 2025 Coachella set wearing a sash that said “Miss Should Be Headliner,” all the club kids, pop-girlies, and music nerds in the crowd—many of them dressed exactly like Charli—lost it. The Coachella performance was the height, and supposed end, of Brat summer—a global cultural phenomenon so big that Kamala Harris co-opted it during her presidential campaign.

After the music stopped, Charli stood still as giant screens flashed a contentious inner-monologue. “Does this mean that Brat Summer is finally over? Idk? Maybe? Wait, was it? No?? Yeah cuz duh it was already over like last year. Wait. Was it? NO??? I don’t know who I am if it’s over??? F–KKKKKKKK.”

Beneath that campy meta-commentary lies real anxiety. In her film The Moment and in interviews joking about escaping “Khia Asylum”— the internet’s imaginary jail for past-their-prime pop-stars—Charli also acknowledged the fear that her biggest breakthrough could also mark its peak; that she’ll forever be known as the Brat girl. It’s a valid concern considering new releases from female pop stars are often treated as evidence that they’ve lost their mojo.

Charli XCX attends at Paris Fashion Week on June 23, 2026 in Paris, France.

Charli’s fear response is Music, Fashion, Film, the album released Friday. Instead of making Brat 2.0, she’s betting that longevity comes from reinvention. Like Bob Dylan abandoning folk, Bruce Springsteen following The River with the lo-fi acoustic release Nebraska, or Weezer swerving from the Blue Album to Pinkerton, Charli is transitioning to a much smoother, softer, more alt-rock sound compared to the electropunk and techno-inspired beats that defined Brat. Don’t worry, it’s still hard—in the British sense of the word.

Throughout the new album, Charli pokes fun at her attempted reinvention. “I think the dance floor is dead / So now we’re making rock music”; she sings on the song “Rock Music”. “My friend Rostam told me I dressed like a slut / So now I shop at A.P.C.,” she says (name dropping the former Vampire Weekend musician) with a spoken word delivery in the spirit of Lou Reed over a post-punk guitar riff on “Wink, Wink.” She punctuates the song with, “yeah, people can change.” Yes they can, Charli. Her sardonic wit, which rivals that of LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy, Courtney Love and David Byrne, shines throughout the album. “And maybe I fucked your dad/Just kidding, I'm only saying that for effect,” she says.

Like Charli was on Brat, she continues to be incredibly introspective on the new album. On “Camera,” the 33-year-old wonders aloud whether her pursuit of on-screen attention is getting lamer as she ages. She’s also added a political edge to her lyrics—“SS26” is a bit apocalyptic: “We’re walking on a runway that goes straight to hell/Nothing’s gonna save us, not music, fashion or film.” She jokes on that track that her Indian background gives her a unique selling proposition.