Crash

The songs on Crash may be about self-destruction and sabotage, but the intoxicating brightness and power of them suggests that her journey of self-discovery deserves to be a celebration rather than a cautionary tale.

She once again explores new ventures, crafting a pop album that celebrates the old classics as well as the new, and cements her status as a true pop trailblazer.

Crash is nothing short of a victory lap. Every bit as effervescent as its pandemic-induced predecessor, how i’m feeling now. ... This is connected and organic; a celebration of hope, love and spontaneity as both her catalogue and the world at large inch closer to some semblance of their old ways.

So, whether she means “Crash,” as some sort of elaborate art joke or her most direct-ever (potentially) hit-filled work, Charl XCX is going out from her longtime label with a bang.

At a sleek 33-minutes long, Crash lets songs like "Lightning" -- an unlikely but winning collision of freestyle beats, giddy orchestral synth stabs, and processed vocals -- claim the spotlight they deserve. It may not be quite as striking as how i'm feeling now, but on Crash, Charli XCX once again finds endless freedom in pop's constraints.

Crash, while not a perfect record and not entirely free from external pressures, sees the singer in a completely different space, making joyous music that flits between normativity and hall-of-mirrors-style subversion in a manner reminiscent of The Weeknd’s Dawn FM.

Crash is clever and fun, as her admirers have come to expect from XCX, but until Charli scores a bona fide smash it is going to feel like an art project commenting on the state of pop rather than the real thing.

At times, ‘Crash’ eases off the throttle slightly – the interpolation of ‘Show Me Love’ on ‘Used to Know Me’ is infectious, if slightly too straightforward, while smouldering ballads ‘Move Me’ and ‘Every Rule’ could do with more of the skewed hints of unfamiliarity found in spades elsewhere. These are minor gripes, though, and by the time those synthesised strings whirr into life on the jagged pop-funk track ‘Baby’ they’re easy enough to overlook.

Crash is Charli’s best full-length project since Pop 2, a canny embrace of modern and vintage pop styles by one of its most sincere students.

Crash, while certainly not for everyone (what is?), is Charli XCX’s own translation of wounds—ahead of its time yet delivered somehow at the appropriate moment.

Despite its minor detours, Crash is one of Charli’s better albums even if it will likely garner a polarizing reaction. She’s fully dedicated though, and it’s a testament to her commitment to crafting the big ‘sellout’ pop album, which she mostly nails.

It’s not her discography’s lowest point, but it is her first misstep. When Charli achieves the perfect confluence of what she loves about pop music, and what we love about her music, it soars, creating some of her finest material to date. But when that balance is not achieved, the songs can feel generic or reductive.

It's the kind of brash, whiplash-inducing pop album that only she seems capable of making at the moment. It's a bit messy, but most crashes are.

Though Charli’s latest jettisons some of the sonic adventurousness of her past releases, it still finds the singer workshopping the reckless abandon of her persona.

She’s been honest about how much she adores the boldness of pop, and she’s been so good at crafting sticky, soaring blockbusters anyway. Here, she’s simply storming the gates head on.

Even when she’s not at her best, she displays enough nous and melody to stand head and shoulders above practically all her rivals.

CRASH might not be up there with her best, but it's still a good pop album, and worth trying for any fans of the genre.

Though not without its charms, the floundering moments of Crash suggests that Charli XCX may be most comfortable making subversive music.

Crash is at its best in its subtler moments.