‘Brat And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat’: an essential expansion of Charli XCX’s world
Deluxe albums and remix records are nothing new. In a world where artists put out several different variations of a single album, eking out every drop of profit to be made from a release, the announcement of a new version of Brat felt like it would be just another cash-in. As Brat summer drew to a close, Charli XCX’s launch of Brat And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat initially appeared like it would be nothing more than an attempt to retain the spotlight.
Instead, with the help of carefully selected collaborators, the genius craft of the remix album feels like a necessary follow-up, expanding the world of the original album with deeper storytelling and bravery.
That’s not to say that Brat is moving against marketing or doing something radically anti-industry. Instead, the marketing of the album should be studied. The Brat release cycle has been an absolute masterclass in harnessing pop culture as Charli XCX has broken into and dominated the zeitgeist in a way that hasn’t been seen in a long time. Maybe even in years. The entire world felt painted over in Brat green to the extent that brands, businesses and even politicians were piggybacking off the collective conversation.
This capitalist splurge has taken Charli from a cult figure to one of the most prominent artists on the planet right now, and while the album is worthy of reverence, the music doesn’t immediately smack you around the face as the type of record that would have that kind of mass appeal—it is arguably not even her best. But whether it was the timing of the release right when people were desperate for a party, the clever integration with social media and broader pop culture or the all-out effort Charli was putting into making this her mainstream breakthrough, something clicked. Brat is more than a sensation; it’s a phenomenon.
But when the weather took a turn, the inevitable reminder that what goes up must come down came along. For some reason, plenty of faces took it upon themselves to announce that Brat summer was dead and gone and that the trendy moment was over. Followed swiftly by Charli’s unveiling of remixed takes on the tracks with the likes of Billie Eilish and Troye Sivan, it initially felt like a typical move to try and drag out public interest. When the first announcement of Brat And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat arrived, the excitement definitely came along with a degree of cynicism.
In truth, certain tracks feel like mere attempts to keep streaming numbers ticking. The ones that include the biggest names, like Eilish’s take on ‘Guess’ or the underwhelming addition of Ariana Grande to ‘Sympathy Is A Knife’, don’t make much of an impact. But beyond those big-selling stars, things become genuinely interesting when it comes to the additions that the artist clearly and carefully picks from her own unique circle of collaborators and friends. In those moments, not only does the remix album gain a new level of value as it integrates with left-field choices like the cinematic production of Bon Iver, the ambient mind of Jon Hopkins or the indie of 1975, but it seems to unlock a new language, a new level of storytelling, and a new sense of bravery.
Because beyond the “365-party girl” energy of Brat, the original album feels like Charli’s diary. Under the maximalist production and club classics ‘vibe’, there are heavy, personal contemplations of grief, complex feelings of jealousy and insecurity about her career, and even considerations of the difficulty of being a woman and wanting a family but wanting a career, too. As Far Out wrote in our original review, Brat is “a tale of two Charlis”; the party girl and the person underneath.
On Brat And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat, the collaborators seem to carve out more space for the latter, as she’s purposefully chosen artists who can converse with the lyrics of the original track and expand on them.
“I really wanted him to do the song,” Charli said of the decision to get Matty Healy on ‘I Might Say Something Stupid’, a song that grapples with the dichotomy of wanting fame but being terrified of it. Anyone who knows The 1975 will know that this is a space in which Healy seems to permanently exist as he plays in this meta zone as the ultimate stereotypical rockstar and a parody of a frontman. On the remix track, it feels like Healy is bringing a new level of honesty to this song.
While Charli dared to sing “I’m famous but not quite” just once, Healy picks that line out again and again, expanding upon it with this wider vision of a fringe celebrity burning out in the industry. Through the atmospheric sound of Jon Hopkins and through the voice of Healy, a friend and clear kindred spirit when it comes to this complex feeling, it’s like the additional names encourage Charli to say what she was trying to say originally, but braver and more obviously.
The same goes for The Japanese House’s take on ‘Apple’; a song that’s taken on a new life as a viral dance but in turn had it’s deeper meaning lost to the masses. Despite its upbeat build, the track is about generational trauma and complex parent-child relationships. “I think the apple’s rotten right to the core / From all the things passed down / From all the apples coming before,” Charli sings, melding nuance into a hooky metaphor.
With the help of Amber Bain’s sentimental take and her own unique moody yet still glitchy and alternative production style, she clears more space for the emotional life of the song. Like Healy, Bain picks out what feels like the core line of the track, “I’ve been looking at you so long, now I only see me”, and hits repeat, adding the more straightforward declarative of, “You’re making me so sad,” which feels like what Charli was trying to say in the song, but wasn’t quite up to that level of vulnerability yet.
But Brat is a vulnerable record, and this remix record feels focused on proving that. Perhaps now boosted by the mass success of the album, leading to a slight boost in confidence in her position in the industry, Charli feels capable of revealing more. A moving moment in that vein comes on ‘So I’, a track dedicated to the memory of her past collaborator and mentor, Sophie. In the original, there is a moment of devastating insecurity and grief as she says, “When I make songs, I remember things you’d suggest,” before asking, “Would you like this one?”.
Now, with the help of AG Cook, the remixed version is nothing more than a list of good memories. While the original dealt with the sadness of the loss, the new one repeats, “Now I wanna think about all the good times”, going through specific and personal memories of joy and success as she lets more of herself lay bare on this new record.
With the help of the collaborators, each redone song seems to find the heart of the original track and expand it. Caroline Polachek’s ethereal take on ‘Everything Is Romantic’ dares to take Charli’s glitchy, cut-up love song and make it lush and outright. Bon Iver’s harmonies on ‘I Think About It All The Time’ seem to provide the kind of empowering artistic nest that maybe she needed in order to sing “I’m so scared” and let that sentiment sit there sincerely without a lime green veil on it. As she and Lorde literally “working it out on the remix”, the full circle moment of ‘Girl So Confusing’ feels oddly healing as Charli is using Brat not only to articulate complex feelings but also to work through them.
So, yes, a remixed and rereleased version of an album with a cast of the world’s biggest artists is a great marketing plan. But Brat And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Brat feels more than that. It’s heavy with artistic worth, sitting as an essential counterpart to the original as if through the language of these carefully and considerately picked collaborators, Charli XCX unlocks a new language that the initial album was reaching for.
