Courtesy of Charli xcx
Charli xcx is always raving atop that thin line between earnestness and irony. Her new song, “Rock Music,” leans towards the latter. It’s the first single of her forthcoming “rock” album that's already been a discourse starter due to a British Vogue interview quoting the incendiary lyric of the song: “I think the dance floor is dead.” (I think she was simply speaking for herself but when you’ve ascended to Main Girl status observations often sound like proclamations).
In the end, that quote seems to have been taken from the (sorry I must) Brat book of marketing. On the song, Charli sings the lyric in a pouty bit of Auto-Tune. The rest of the track is built on vocal loops and power chord pivots, and the whole thing has the feeling of a group of friends drunkenly trying on a genre — and it actually turning out quite good. Based on the accompanying Aidan Zamiri-directed music video, which features Charli and her collaborators bopping around New York City in a black and white cig smoke haze, that might’ve been the actual case of what happened.
The song and video feel almost purposefully coy, as Charli sings, “Wow I’m really banging my head,” poking fun at rock-music motions. Classic Charli, being the first to laugh. But the next line, “I’m really hurting my neck,” appears to poke at the more adult side effects of her rockstar lifestyle. I hope the rest of the album contains more of the latter sentiments. Charli, and all of us, are older now, and jokes are wearing thin.
If there’s any pop star I’ve grown up with, it’s Charli. And with that, I’ve come to notice that her album rollouts tend to follow a specific pattern of unveiling. Usually, her albums are launched with its most winking, and dare I say, trollish track. She kicked off her Crash era with the purposefully paint-by-numbers pop record “Good Ones.” Brat debuted with “Von Dutch,” a track heavy on self-mythology: “Von Dutch, cult classic but I still pop.”
My reactions to the cycle have similarly taken on a predictable rhythm. I am first annoyed by her hiding more vulnerable expression beneath layers of It-Girl-group inside jokes and Auto-Tune. And then the album comes and usually reveals new insights into her pathos. That’s why Brat ultimately eclipsed its mass-marketing bonanza to become a true cultural monsoon; its velocity was intensified by confessional tracks like “I think about it all the time.”
I’m hoping a similar process will take place with “Rock Music” and the subsequent record; I expect to be moved and excited. In the short term, though, I’m finding this process of launching with irony a tad predictable, and tired. As for the song, though, it rips.
