That being said, when it comes to the more downtrodden, melancholic, and introspective tracks on BRAT, the production does a fantastic job of taking the instrumental elements of the club bangers on this record and toning them down to create a sonic atmosphere that resembles the experience of coming down from the party and reentering reality, having no choice but to face the emotions you’d been using the metaphorical “party” to avoid thinking about. In other words, the production doesn’t force these more melancholic tracks to fit the traditional mold of a club banger, but rather flips traditional instrumental elements of club music, like radiant synths and heavy bass, to match the lyrical sentiments in a way that doesn’t contradict the overall sonic atmosphere of the record and instead, adds even more layers and eclecticism to the sonic palette of BRAT.

Perhaps the best two examples of this phenomenon can be found in the touching tribute to late-friend and fellow avant-pop mastermind, SOPHIE, “So I,” and in the existential track dealing with Charli’s anxieties of one day becoming a mother, “I think about it all the time.” In my opinion, “So I” feels just as huge and engulfing as any of the club bangers on the record, thanks to the reverb-soaked synths and ear-shaking bass, but gives Charli’s vocals and lyrics much more space to shine. The drums on this record don’t appear until the final chorus, really adding to the emotional impact of the track when they finally enter. In the end, Jon Shave and A.G. Cook do an incredible job of taking some of the glitchy, larger-than-life production of the higher-intensity tracks on this record and toning it down to put Charli front-and-center while still matching the esthetics of the rest of the record. Meanwhile, the club music staples of punctual kicks and sharp hi-hats show up on “I think about it all the time,” but are excellently contrasted by the more drone-like and muted synth passages on the cut, once again highlighting Charli’s vocal performance while still fitting with the general aesthetics of the record.

Above all, the biggest credit I can give to BRAT’s production is that it does a remarkable job of being experimental without sacrificing catchiness and cohesiveness one bit. Unsurprisingly, the more standard cuts on this record, such as as the bouncy “360” or glitzy “Talk talk,” have some of the catchiest choruses I’ve heard in modern pop music, but even the non-conventional cuts, such as the glitchy and entrancing “Club classics” and the chaotic and visceral “360” remix, “365,” somehow remain incredibly catchy and cohesive despite their abstract structures. The track “Mean Girls” is another great example of this phenomenon, with it’s revving synths and pounding drums (reminiscent of those appearing on “Von dutch”) being abruptly interrupted around the mid-point of the track by a fantastic classical piano break that is built upon for the remainder of the track. You’d think this would make the track feel disjointed, but it doesn’t. Instead, it makes it feel more dynamic, chaotic and exciting. Even, in my opinion, the most abstract, experimental, and multi-phased cut on the entire record, “Everything is romantic,” is somehow able to transition genres seamlessly from orchestral to rave to synthpop all within just three-and-a-half minutes without sacrificing cohesiveness and catchiness, a feat that, to me, is honestly mind-blowing.

While the production on BRAT is incredible, it by no means overshadows Charli’s lyrical intrigue. Far and away, BRAT is Charli’s most lyrically vulnerable, creative, and mature record to date. Venturing into the complexities of her female relationships, her familial relationships, her existential anxiety about the future, and her desire to get away from using her party-girl persona as a mask for her insecurities, Charli is in a constant state of back-and-forth between overconfidence and insecurity on BRAT. Tracks where Charli is embracing her pop “it girl” persona, such as “360,” which sees Charli claiming that she is so ubiquitous and dominant within pop culture that even “when you’re in the mirror, you’re just looking at [her],” and “Von dutch,” which sees Charli asserting her status as an idol to all of those who discredit her or copy her stylistic and artistic choices, directly contradict with other tracks on BRAT where Charli seems to feel under-accomplished and insecure about her career. She goes from declaring herself as the “it girl” of pop music on “360” and “Von dutch” to lamenting her obsession with topping the billboard charts and questioning whether or not she deserves commercial success on “Rewind” to bluntly stating that she’s “famous but not quite” enough and feels like she has become an outsider at the metaphorical “party,” being the music industry at large, on “I might say something stupid.” While some might say that this constant back-and-forth blurs her artistic identity, everything lyrically on BRAT is clearly incredibly intentional. Thus, her true artistic identity seems to be embodied by this constant back-and-forth between feeling powerful and powerless.

Overall, it seems like the biggest driver of Charli’s oscillation between feeling confident and feeling powerless has to do with the presence of other powerful and prolific women in her social circle tapping her insecurities with regards to her level of success and influence within the pop landscape, her appearance, and her true personality. The most blatant example of this has to be the lyrical sentiment behind “Sympathy is a knife,” which sees Charli describing her intense feelings of insecurity and intimidation whenever a particular woman (highly suspected to be Taylor Swift) is around and her frustration with trying to figure out whether the sympathy that her friends offer her in response to her feeling insecure is genuine or is simply just given in an attempt to make her feel better. Between the emotion behind her vocal performance and the immense honesty behind her lyrics, “Sympathy is a knife,” much like most other cuts on this record, finds a way to be nuanced yet direct and impactful. The track “Girl, so confusing,” goes further in this direction, detailing Charli’s uncertainty in determining whether another anonymous woman (now confirmed to be alternative-pop artist, Lorde) truly wants to become friends with her and see her succeed or is just saying so while secretly wanting to see her “falling over and failing.” The precarious state of the relationship is matched perfectly by the breathless, semi-manic pacing of Charli’s vocals on this cut. Additionally, the simplicity of the chorus does a brilliant job of exemplifying the frivolousness of the projection-heavy nature of many of the female relationships in Charli’s life.

The powerful and incredibly honest nature of Charli’s lyrics dealing with her insecurities and anxieties on this record venture into other unexpected territories as well, such as her familial relationships on “Apple,” perhaps the most creative cut on BRAT lyrically. On this track, Charli provides more context on where her deepest insecurities originate from, that being her parents, and details her avoidant nature of dealing with conflict, using her career and her resulting pressing need to drive to the airport as a scapegoat. The conversational nature of the track and the use of the rotten apple as an analogy for the passing down of insecurities and anxieties from generation to generation within her family is executed upon brilliantly and makes “Apple” one of Charli’s most lyrically multi-layered and interesting cuts to date. Meanwhile, “I think about it all the time” serves as a continuation of some of Charli’s anxieties of passing down these same insecurities to her own kids someday. Undoubtedly, this track sees Charli at her most profound on BRAT, falling far down into the rabbit hole of questioning if becoming a mother would be worth sacrificing her freedom and artistic trajectory. On this track, Charli seems to be balancing on a tightrope lyrically, going back and forth between feeling hopeful about the future and fearful of running out of time to make such a critical decision. The highly hypothetical and pensive nature of her writing on this cut does a remarkable job of communicating how abstract and distant the idea of settling down and having a quiet family life seems to her at this point. As a side note, I find it super interesting that this cut falls right before the abrasive, cocaine-infused, and chaotic club banger closer, “365,” tying back to the themes of avoiding having to make hard choices and thinking about anxiety-inducing topics that was introduced on “Apple” in favor of distracting herself from these feelings via embracing her party girl persona, cementing BRAT as a never-ending battle between these two sides of Charli’s personality. It’s absolutely downright brilliant.

All in all, in my opinion, BRAT hits a home run on every single front. The production throughout this entire record is phenomenal. The more traditional synthpop cuts and the more wild experimental cuts are all incredibly captivating from front to back and make for an endlessly repeatable album experience. Vocally and lyrically, Charli leaves absolutely nothing to be desired, with some of her most impeccable vocal performances and thought-provoking and goosebump-inducing lyrics to date. Conceptually, nothing feels out of place on BRAT either. Every track adds something to the intricate web that BRAT weaves without straying too far away from the underlying lyrical themes and sonic atmosphere of the record. There’s only one song that I don’t find endlessly repeatable on the entire record, that being “I might say something stupid.” I’m not a huge fan of the mix on the vocals and the fairly scant instrumental on this track, but I still think it's still incredibly important when it comes to providing more context behind Charli’s non-party girl persona that shows up throughout the record. In the end, I think BRAT is one of Charli’s best records to date and will undoubtedly go down as one of the most exciting, captivating, and revolutionary pop albums in history.