Charli XCX's 'Brat' and the Death of Hyperpop (As We Knew It)

When Charli XCX dropped Brat in June 2024, critics called it her best work yet. Pitchfork gave it Best New Music. Anthony Fantano handed out a perfect 10. But here is the thing nobody wants to say out loud: Brat is not really a hyperpop album. And that is exactly why it works.

The Genre That Ate Itself

Hyperpop was never supposed to last. Born from the PC Music collective and crystallized by 100 gecs' chaotic debut, the genre was defined by its refusal to be defined—AutoTune cranked to absurdity, sugar-rush synths, vocals that sounded like they were being transmitted from a dying Nintendo DS. It was maximalist, ironic, and gloriously unlistenable to anyone over 25.

Then SOPHIE died. And something shifted.

The genre's most visionary producer was gone, and what remained started to feel like cosplay. Hyperpop playlists on Spotify became a dumping ground for anything with distorted vocals. The aesthetic got flattened into a TikTok filter. By 2023, calling something "hyperpop" was almost an insult—shorthand for try-hard experimentalism with nothing underneath.

What Brat Actually Is

Charli XCX understood the assignment. Brat keeps the DNA—the A.G. Cook production, the bratty attitude, the club-ready BPMs—but strips away the genre's worst instincts. There is no ironic distance here. No hiding behind layers of distortion. When she sings about jealousy, aging, wanting to be someone else, she means it.

"Von dutch" has one of the hardest hooks in recent pop memory, but it is also legible. You can dance to it without needing a PhD in post-internet aesthetics. "360" is self-aware about fame without disappearing into meta-commentary. The production is aggressive but never hostile to the listener.

Growing Up Without Selling Out

The real achievement of Brat is that it matures without betraying its roots. Charli did not make a "serious" album to prove she is an artist. She made a party album that happens to be emotionally sophisticated. The vulnerability is baked into the banger, not stapled on as a slow ballad at track 9.

This is the model for what hyperpop alumni should do next: keep the energy, lose the armor. Stop hiding behind the joke. The genre's original promise—that pop music could be weirder, harder, more honest—does not require unlistenability as proof of concept.

The Verdict

Brat is not the death of hyperpop. It is hyperpop finally growing up. And honestly? It sounds better than ever.

Rating: 9/10

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