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Charli xcx review – a glorious, one-woman triumph
The Brat star commands the stage alone in a joyful arena show that feels more like a warehouse rave
The Essex 32-year-old nonchalantly waves her cigarette like a baton, controlling an orchestra of mainly gay men and young women, before unleashing a familiar trigger warning for an oncoming crowd meltdown: “Manchester, where the fuck you at?” she roars as delirium ensues. From the British high street to the US presidential elections, via memes, a dedicated season (“How to have a Brat summer”, ran one Vogue piece) and nine Grammy nominations, Charli’s sixth album has mushroomed into a phenomenon. Musically, Brat married Charli’s brand of forward-thinking, jagged dance-pop to easily digestible lyrics slathered in partying, sex and drugs, tapping into a collective desire for reckless escapism.
Or read this on The Guardian
