Goodbye to All Brat
“There was a time when we were brat
When Chappell Roan was hot
And cucumber salads invitingThere was a time when we were mindful
And also demure
And that excitingThere was a time
Then it all went… boy.”
Ew?
Boys are gross and they also smell. But the point is that we were all brat and now we’re not. We were drinking 2 oz 50/50 martinis with three olives. Now we’re drinking 5 oz martinis with no vermouth. We were having one cig maybe when we were out with our girlies but now we’re just smoking. We were having a little key and doing a little line, and now we're doing kratom and drugs only referred to by a series of numbers and letters. We are also, wholeheartedly, embracing human dog food because we now care about things like macros and gains. Why?
Before we dive in, let's just make sure we all know to distinguish between brat the Charil XCX album and "brat" the feeling and state of mind brought into mainstream consciousness by listening to said album during a specific period of time more commonly known by its formal name: Brat Summer. Academically, Brat Summer begins Thursday, February 29th, 2024 with the release of the album’s first single “Von Dutch.” Soon after, it was not Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter which she announced via AT&T Super Bowl commercial but Chappell Roan's Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess that took the world by storm. Chappell, with her crisp, raw sound and the lyrics that neither obfuscate nor postalize her Sapphism, was exciting and different for the young, the gay and the they. With their likes, posts, and memes, they rapidly ushered her into TikTok fame which gave her unprecedented mainstream success. Back in my day, when moms started referencing certain songs you thought were cool but yours and only yours that was usually a sign that they weren't cool anymore. But Chappell's rise was so fast and sudden that people from all walks of life found out she was the biggest pop star in the world all at once. For months, "Pink Pony Club," a joyous, sincere anthem about leaving your oppressive town for the Big City so you can finally be who you are, was not only sung on karaoke nights at the gay bar, but also listened to by your mom on the radio as she picks you up from school and also in the background of three-dollar-sign restaurants. The Pink Pony Club was for you and also for everyone, and, while it certainly wasn't the first song about lesbian/gay joy by a queer artist to be embraced by the mainstream, it was also cool as hell.
The world's attitude towards Chappell set the stage for the reception of brat's release on June 7th, just in time for summer (Gay Summer, of course, began on March 10th that year). The green cover and Arial Narrow font was, of course, instantly different and iconic. Charli's video for 360 featured a slew of girlies who grew popular thanks to the internet like herself; Is it a stretch to say she reminded us that the same space that produced the atrocities of 4chan also produced the joys of tumblr? Charli’s sound was raw and abrasive. It’s not, as Ian would say, a “put it on” record – at least not at first. With crunchy bangers leading to self-reflective ballads and ending with a riff of the first song that bleeds in seamlessly into the actual first song, the whole album is incredibly easy to listen to on repeat, as if a DJ is spinning it at the club. Over time, brat does become a “put it on” record the more one is familiar with it, one fit to be played in the background of a wide range of activities.
And it was. Brat was sung on karaoke night at the gay club. It was listened to by your mom on the radio as she picked you up from school. It was playing in the background of that three-dollar-sign restaurant. And also at the gym. And also at the bathhouse...
Brat Summer didn't become Brat Summer overnight, it became Brat Summer because young/gay/they people helped usher brat into the mainstream – as they did with Chappell. It became such a widespread cultural phenomenon that everyone was posting about it, from government agencies to women ordering "bratcha lattes" from Starbucks (they were green). Marketing articles about the slew of brands embracing brat at the time say that Brat Summer peaked in late July or early August, before the Apple dance came out and before Kamala Harris embraced it for her campaign. But for many, it didn't peak until until October 11th, when brat and it’s completely different but also still brat was released. As its title implies, it is an album of remixes that for many are just as compelling as the originals, perhaps most notably the remix of “Sympathy is a Knife” featuring Ariana Grande, who also slayed as Glinda in Wicked: Pt. 1 that year – which also made $764 million at the global box office, more than Dune: Part II. Brat was a sign that cultural taste is changing to embrace young/gay/they people – perhaps it already had. For those who risk their lives to dance at the Pink Pony Club every day, it was also a record of hope. The true end of Brat Summer is Tuesday, November 5th, on the eve of Election Day, and it was abrupt.
As we look back now, perhaps in a thin bathrobe chainsmoking Parliaments on a Holiday Inn balcony (do they even have bathrobes?), it all feels like a dream too good to be true. Unlike Barbie's pseudo-feminism the prior year, the feminist culture created during Brat Summer felt substantial and different. It’s not that other music wasn't, it’s just that other music wasn’t brat. It was fresh. It was powerful. It was music that made you feel like you could do no wrong and also be a little bad. Go ahead and text your ex. Go ahead and upgrade to premium economy. Hell, get the little cheese platter too, and the little bottle of oaky Chard. Because if you can party 365, why wouldn't you? You're a free bitch, baby.
I want your loving and I want your revenge
You and me could write a-
Whoops! Sorry didn't mean to bring Gaga into this. Unlike her you actually aren't free. That upgrade to premium economy you just made? You did it on a work trip, and work didn't reimburse you. That ex you texted? You didn't text him in a Slut Pop kind of way, but because you genuinely still see something in him and hope it will work out. Brat sells the fantasy of not giving a fuck and doing whatever you want, that it's not only possible to party back-to-back with your friends but also wake up for your 7:30am Zoom call when you're hungover even though you're now 35. But while that may have been true for some brat listeners, the reality is that for many the only B2B in their life stands for B2B sales.
The desire to be the brat that brat invokes is very real however, even if for some of us that means going to bed at 9 pm. Unfortunately though, we live in a society and can't be brat 365, so the easiest way to show our enthusiasm for brat in our consumptive attention economy is to post and/or buy stuff. Brat's success also exposed an untapped market of youngs, gays, and theys. Arguably, Brat Summer was less about a revolutionary queer countercultural movement and more of an opportunity for companies and conglomerates to exploit new audiences for their wealth, even if that audience is gay people who don't have any money.
Charli knows this. In her mockumentary The Moment directed by Aidan Zamiri, she plays an alternate version of herself as she prepares to embark on a world tour while trying to navigate her sudden level of success.
SPOILER ALERT! If you don’t like spoilers keep scrolling, but also you kind of need to read this section for this essay (gag?) to make sense.
Her label and tour manager, taken aback by Brat’s success and eager to milk it for every penny, conspire on how to make Brat Summer last forever. At first, Charli is interested in no such thing, she even calls Brat Summer cringe. But with mounting pressure from record executives and corporate partnerships, including a new Brat credit card issued from a fictional bank called Howard Stirling designed to capture the growing queer market, it becomes clear that it may be harder than she thinks to tank her own success.
A surprise run-in with a brilliant Kaitlyn Jenner playing the vilest version of herself leads Charli to succumb; she caves to the demands of her higher ups and gives up control of the tour (to what actual choice she has in the decision is very much up for debate). In the process, she loses sight of what brat means to her and why she made it to begin with.
To her own credit, she also accidentally/subconsciously-on-purpose tanks the Howard Stirling deal, defrauding her fans while bankrupting the bank in the process. And despite backlash from her loyal fans and becoming the internet’s latest laughing stock, there is still enough public interest to justify her contractually-obligated tour. The film’s final sequence is a trailer for a concert film directed by a freshly Pillion-ed Alexander Skarsgård (complimentary) whose vision is unflappable and completely at odds with any shred of Charli’s remaining ethos. Awash in corporate logos and quotes from film critics selling the audience on a “new side of Brat,” Charli fades into the limelight, just like the inevitable end of the film's Brat Summer.
What The Moment reveals is that while the realities of the music business can alienate an artist from their music, music is an afterthought for the entities keeping the business running. Howard Stirling only cares about partnering with Charli to reach her audience. Kamala aligned herself with brat with Charli's blessing (can you blame her?) because she needed her demographic to hype her up in order to win, but did she ever attempt to understand her? Was she ever really brat?
In our aforementioned social media fueled late-stage capitalist hellscape, a thing's success is directly correlated to how much of that thing is being posted about; as art goes, the amount of content about that thing far outweighs the thing itself. Brat Summer was awash in brat-fueled content whose primary purpose was not societal change but personal gain. The women posting their "bratcha lattes" on socials may be true brat fans, but they are also in it for the likes and comments (aren't we all?). The Moment warns us about what happens when we let people on the band wagon that we know in our heart of hearts aren't cool.
As we hug our robe tight and light another cigarette, we realize in horror that Boy Summer is back because it actually never went away. Brat Summer was Boy Summer, because every summer is Boy Summer. Boys own the platforms where youngs, gays, and theys propagate. Boys always win no matter who's up for election. We're ruled by the Patriarchy and boys rule and girls drool.
But hey, it's not so bad. Hollywood had it's biggest year for movies since before the pandemic, in no small part thanks to the (boy) YouTubers helming them, not to mention a plethora of boy-friendly titles such as Mortal Kombat 2 and as well as Street Fighter and Super Troopers 3 slated for release. Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey is even more Boy Summer than the greased up Troy (Boy Summer 2004) thanks in no small part to Christopher Nolan's categorical inability to write a woman character. Fast food sales are up and the buffet is coming back, cyclospora be damned (I don't know her). It's true that, like, you can't drive if you're trans now in some states. But queer people shouldn't be allowed to drive anyway.
Let me be clear: things kinda suck for us youngs, gays, and theys (I'm young I swear). And yet, something is different about this Boy Summer. The boys seem more down, more chill, and more open. We're calling human dog food by what it is: boy kibble, and we're laughing about it. The two biggest hits made by male YouTubers this year feature female protagonists, and Super Troopers is the most male-coded bisexual film franchise of all time. We still care about looksmaxxing, but we also care less about shaving our back.
At this year's Outside Lands, Chari XCX came on stage with the Strokes. The first single on her new album Music, Fashion, Film is called "Rock Music." She sang "Take It Or Leave It" beside Julian Casablancas...
Julian Casablancas is brat.
