“Brat”, the latest major release from Charli XCX (aka Charlotte Aitchinson), may be the pop artist’s magnum opus, elevating her to powerhouse status from mainstream celebrity. The album combines the stylings of the 2000s European rave scene with group chat lingo now common among Gen Z users. It succeeds by employing a confrontational sound, as well as by providing intriguing insights into Ms. Aitchinson’s conflicted relationships with other musicians and celebrities, from Lorde (who appeared in the remix of “girl, so confusing”’” after it was confirmed that she was the song’s subject) to Dasha Nekrasova, the actress famous for appearing in the third season of “Succession” and the co-host of the notorious “Red Scare” podcast. 

“Brat” establishes an overriding aesthetic that goes beyond the album’s stronger qualities. We begin with the cover art: simply a low resolution screenshot of the album’s title, in Arial Narrow, on a pear green background. Previously, the word “brat’’ contained a negative connotation, referring to someone who is young and vapid. Now, according to the singer, its meaning is more complex. A brat is someone who is “messy” and “maybe says some dumb things all the time.” Anything with a similar green color is now associated with the brat aesthetic, the same way that people relate the bright orange color to Garfield the cat.  

“Brat” got a life of its own when Ms Aitchinson, who’s English, declared that the American vice president and Democratic presidential nominee, Kamala Harris, is ‘brat.’ The brat appellation has since been cleverly co-opted by Ms. Harris’ political image makers, transforming her meme presence from a source of mockery and ridicule to something edgy and playful. Ms.Aitchison appears to have done what years of political strategizing and millions of dollars in advertising failed to do: she made Kamala Harris look cool. 

All of this may sound confusing to someone older than the singer’s target audience (this author is on the cusp between Gen Z and millennial and can sympathize), but Ms. Aitchinson’s  personality, flaws and all, does match with her vision of what a young, female voter could be. 

TikTok has declared this August “brat summer” (it’s quite common to put anything before “summer” and turn it into a cultural phenomenon) and this has become a commentator’s field dream. While journalists and pundits embraced the term “brat” as a quality embodying “feminine contradictions,” as one author told The Guardian, others claim it’s not immortal. One writer in Pitchfork says that the Democratic politicians co opting the aesthetic are ruining it for everyone. 

The pop scene is currently fragmented. We do not live in an era where we can choose genres and all, if not most, of them blur into one. But in a landscape dominated by younger female singer-songwriters like Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter and Billie Eilish, Ms Aitchinson stands out due to her carefree and trashy attitude towards her profession. This has already trickled down (or up) into the hardbitten world of politics, where a lot more is at stake than girls “being messy.” Can Ms. Aitchinson’s unaffected mien helped elevate a much-mocked American politician who “maybe says some dumb things all the time” to leader of the free world? Pop should not be regulatory, and “Brat” embraces this state of mind with open arms. 

The “Brat” aesthetic is supported by the current cost of living crisis across the West. Astronomical mortgage rates and high inflation have made it difficult for younger generations to get by. They don’t own as much capital – housing and wealth – as their predecessors. The “Brat” album asks why should we care about the world’s problems, when it’s our own selves that we need to “worry about”. Apart from the infectious party anthems, Ms Aitchinson’s anxieties on aging and contemplating future motherhood is demonstrated throughout the album, particularly in “I Think About It All The Time” where she meets her friend’s newborn kid. She sings:

And a baby might be mine

‘Cause maybe one day I might

If I don’t run out of time

Would it make me miss all my freedom?

“Brat” seems refreshing compared to the MAGA aesthetic, which can nowadays seem unforgiving, cult-like and totalitarian. A modern woman, who, like Ms. Harris, happens to be childless, seems to be one of its major targets. One particular instance is when influencers and wannabe pundits called Taylor Swift (also childless) a psyop and predicted she would endorse President Biden during the Superbowl. No such event has happened and Mr. Biden has since dropped out of the race. But for influencers, that demographic, due to their pre-supposed political choices, is deserving of derision.

Following President Trump’s surprising election win in 2016, most entertainers responded by promoting art that panders to everyone’s worst biases, rather than understanding human choices. To a fault, this made them more shrill and intolerant of any creative work that dissents. “Brat” is far from an overt political statement; instead, like Ms. Harris, it seeks to represent joy (whether it’s genuine or synthetic joy remains an open question). 

The album will certainly end up topping many year-end lists, long after we’ve learned if the “brat” has won the White House. Historically, trends can go away in an instant, but the ideas behind them don’t. “Brat” has little shame and asks us to remain forward-thinking. Perhaps that is what we need in these divisive times, but do we really need Ms. Harris?