Prime Cuts: SS26, Wink Wink, Rock Music
Overall Grade: 4.5/5
Following the cultural earthquake that was Brat, Charli XCX faced an almost impossible challenge: how do you follow an album that redefined your career without simply making Brat 2.0? Music, Fashion, Film answers that question by refusing to chase expectations. Instead of doubling down on rave-ready club music, Charli veers into a messier world of distorted guitars, fashion-house glamour, cinematic storytelling, and self-aware pop deconstruction.
The result is an album that is deliberately restless. At just over 30 minutes, it moves quickly, yet every song feels like another experiment in identity. Charli isn't abandoning electronic pop-she's bending it until it collides with indie rock, grunge textures, and tongue-in-cheek performance art. It's an album less interested in perfection than in evolution.
Lead single "Rock Music" was always going to divide listeners. Despite its title, it isn't a straightforward rock anthem but a collision of crunchy guitars, Auto-Tuned vocals, and hyperpop production. Those expecting traditional rock were inevitably disappointed, but that was never the point. The song functions almost like a mission statement: Charli is daring listeners to stop trying to put her into genre boxes.
The swagger continues on "SS26," one of the album's strongest moments. Opening with restrained guitar lines before exploding into heavier distortion, the song cleverly satirises online outrage and celebrity culture. Lyrics about being "taken out of context" transform internet drama into surprisingly infectious pop-rock. It's funny, biting, and irresistibly catchy without losing its emotional edge.
Perhaps the record's most playful track is "Wink Wink." Built around crunchy guitars and shimmering synths, Charli delivers a spoken-word introduction full of exaggerated bad-girl clichés before immediately undercutting them with humour. The repeated insistence that she's "not a bad girl anymore" followed by the knowing "wink, wink" perfectly captures the album's fascination with performance, celebrity, and the blurry line between authenticity and image.
Elsewhere, the record continues weaving together music, fashion, and cinema as overlapping identities rather than separate themes. The production from longtime collaborators A. G. Cook and Finn Keane remains adventurous throughout, constantly shifting between abrasive textures and glossy hooks. Even when songs feel intentionally unfinished or chaotic, they carry enough melodic instinct to remain memorable.
Lyrically, Charli is less interested in providing neat emotional resolutions than exposing contradictions. Fame is exhilarating yet exhausting. Confidence masks insecurity. Reinvention is both liberating and lonely. Some listeners may find the fragmented songwriting frustrating, but those willing to embrace the ambiguity will discover one of her most intellectually engaging albums.
Not every experiment lands perfectly. A few tracks prioritise atmosphere over memorable songwriting, and the album occasionally feels like a collection of artistic sketches rather than a completely unified statement. Yet that looseness is also part of its appeal. Rather than polishing every rough edge, Charli allows the creative process itself to become part of the finished work.
After Brat, repeating herself would have been the safest commercial move. Instead, Music, Fashion, Film proves that Charli XCX remains one of pop's most fearless innovators, willing to alienate some listeners in pursuit of something genuinely new. It may not eclipse Brat, but it confidently establishes the next chapter of an artist who refuses to stand still.
