Album Review: Charli XCX Crashes the Party

The hit-making, boundary-pushing pop star’s been on the rise for the last 10 years. After helping to push her genre forward, she brings her major-label last hurrah.

Written by Felix Kalvesmaki

Photo courtesy of Emily Lipson

Charli XCX has sold her soul to the devil.

At least, that’s what she wants you to think. Her fifth album Crash themes itself after the archetype of the morally devoid, self-obsessed pop starlet — and, in some ways, she’s been playing the part in her day-to-day life. Most recently, she’s garnered controversy for, among other things, calling a stan a “c*nt” on Twitter (and then making a TikTok about it), and for her very public venting about the reception of her latest work. She’s evidently been publicly frustrated with the scrutiny that comes with the role she signed up for.

But some of the criticism she’s faced feels unwarranted — definitely not worthy of the kind of snark her fans are known for on Twitter, calling her “underwhelming” to her face. The lead singles from Crash aren’t bad, they’re just not the caffeine-addled insanity her fans have come to expect from her. They’re not cocaine-laced hyperpop addictions-to-be, they’re tributes to Janet Jackson and other ‘80s and ‘90s divas. This shift in style, to be honest, is working perfectly well for her. Crash is her last album for her major label contract with Atlantic, and after releasing several decently nutty mixtapes and albums with them, Charli should get one go at being the proper pop star her profile has never allowed her to be before. Give her a chance to chart one more time, while she still has the big-label push to land on the Hot 100.

That’s not to say Charli is going to fade into obscurity after we’re done with Crash. This album is too good to be her last. Actually, it sets up a nice launchpad into a wider career, one where Charli can continue to glide between the avant garde computer music that earned her Pitchfork cred (even if retroactively), and the chart-topping hooks that she stormed the world with on Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy.”

First, the singles. Charli made a strange choice by leading with “Good Ones.” It’s a good song, with a dirty, uppercutting ’80s bass and the songstress’ illustrious falsetto. The autocroon she’s become known for returns here and on other cuts like the follow-up “New Shapes,” and it serves well for the more electronic side of this record. This Christine and the Queens collaboration, along with a bridge by Caroline Polachek, elevates the second single a lot. Selling it as a girl group (punctuated by Charli’s cocky backing vocal of "Charli, Caroline, Chris" in the outro) as opposed to a solo number provides equally quirky takes on the title for each, evoking an ’80s supergroup fantasy.

Image courtesy of Atlantic Records

Charli ditches the Auto-Tune, however, for tracks like the third single, “Beg For You.” Her voice sounds lovely, a great reminder that beneath the glitz lies a genuinely talented vocalist. It didn’t land well at first, and felt a bit too reliant on its sample. It’s a grower, though. The song flows well with the rest of the album, complete with a catchy chorus that stays for days. Although it’s one of Charli’s safer productions, which is a disappointment given the experimental pop takes collaborator Rina Sawayama is known for, it’s not a bad pop song. It’s maybe best to look at Crash as a whole, that way. Those looking for the pioneering genius of SOPHIE won’t find it, and it’s fine to dislike her (likely temporary) shift away from PC music and hyperpop. But, as a pop effort, “Beg For You” is pretty damn good.

Charli tries her best to embed stoicism across this record. From “Good Ones” to “Beg For You,” an aspect of emotional detachment is even prevalent in the love songs (“Don’t make me beg for you.” “I always let the good ones go.”) “Every Rule” is the pinnacle of this, where Charli writes the most tender song in the album about an affair she’s “breaking every rule for.” It’s actually pretty crushing for a pop song, and its production is sap-sweet pop balladry at its finest. On the other end, there’s “Baby,” which doesn’t hide her intentions: “I'ma f-ck you up, I'ma f-ck you up. I'ma f-ck you up, I'ma f-ck you up (baby),” Charli barrages the listener towards the end.

The narrator of Crash, whether or not she draws from Charli’s personal life, is cocky, self-imploding, and selfish. She invites listeners along for the ride in the title track, telling them “I'm about to crash into the water / Gonna take you with me / I'm high voltage, self-destructive / End it all so legendary.” This is an offer that is too good to turn down, one that’s infectious, hypnotizing you into getting in the car with her. Her lyricism is not picture-perfect (the lead single has a line that goes ‘Doing this is all that I’ve known ever,’ breaking grammar for the rhyme) but as a songwriter, Charli sure knows how to weave a narrative.

Overall, Crash will not go down as Charli’s most experimental effort, but it maybe considered one of her strongest and most consistent. It’s impressive pop craftsmanship at every level and a fitting final hurrah for someone who’s spent a lot of time dedicated to the underground for the last few years. Charli rose from the ground to make a hit record. It’s no skin off her nose: She knows better than anyone that she can go back into the hyperpop trenches once she’s done living the pop stardom she’s always dreamed of.