What’s the opposite of a victory lap?
One answer arrived this year in the form of “Music, Fashion, Film,” Charli XCX’s bracing follow-up to 2024’s Grammy-winning “Brat.” An emotionally complicated dance-pop album about the relationship between power and vulnerability, “Brat” struck a nerve in a weird cultural moment and finally brought Charli the kind of stardom she’d been openly seeking for ages. In the LP’s immediate aftermath, the English musician hungrily scooped up the spoils of her success — playing Coachella’s main stage, starring in a highbrow mockumentary, soundtracking Hollywood’s latest take on “Wuthering Heights.”
Yet “Music, Fashion, Film” wonders what it all meant. It’s a digitally enhanced rock record — probably 2026’s best thing-with-guitar — that cycles through thoughts on ambition and trend-chasing before landing with a moving sense of serenity on the idea that everybody dies and takes their accomplishments with them.
“No One Lasts Forever” is the album’s final track, and Sunday night that was also Charli’s closer at Inglewood’s Kia Forum, where she headlined the second of two shows over the weekend.
Structurally, the concert bookended songs from “Brat” (for which she was accompanied by prerecorded tracks) with stuff from “Music, Fashion, Film” (for which a scuzzy live band backed her up). There were stray oldies too, including “Constant Repeat,” which she introduced as one of the first songs she wrote about her husband, George Daniel — “even though it’s not exactly truthful,” she added — and the landmark hyperpop cut “Vroom Vroom.”
She also did “House,” a spooky goth-folk song from “Wuthering Heights” that had her writhing on the stage in the white-hot heat of a single spotlight — a sex kitten turned scream queen (or perhaps vice versa). And she brought out Adéla, the Slovakian singer famously booted from the reality show that created Katseye, to do her viral hit “Nicole Kidman,” which is just one of a handful of rough-edged pop hits this year that demonstrate “Brat’s” lasting influence.
Indeed, what was illuminating about the middle of the show — basically a half-hour-long club night with strobes cranked happily to here’s-the-seizure-you-ordered — was seeing how very un-tired Charli’s fans are of being pulverized by songs like “Club Classics,” for which she donned her Superman’s-cape sunglasses, and “Guess,” during which pairs of underwear rained down on the audience in a nod to the music video for the song’s remix with Billie Eilish.
Charli had opened with the new album’s “Rock Music,” in which she declares that “the dance floor is dead”; here, her sarcasm fooled precisely nobody.
My favorite part was the home stretch of tunes from “Music, Fashion, Film”: “Camera,” a startlingly frank confession of her movie-star aspirations; “Magic Metal Montana,” a deeply tender ode to her friend and collaborator A.G. Cook; “SS26,” a jittery electro-punk jam about “walking on a runway that goes straight to hell.”
I love the strange emotion in these songs — the feeling that you might as well say what you want because the only thing more embarrassing than taking a risk is not taking one.
At some point, Charli lit up a cigarette and waved it around like someone who’d discovered a critical truth. What were they gonna do — make her end the concert early?
Define early; better yet, define late.
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