futurism seldom reaches new heights that feel truly progressive, in such a way that results in more than a momentary blip of new or remixed sounds; often it feels like simply the barest alternative from preconceived work, a recycling with only a spattering of new flair. but the sign of any worthwhile dive into that artistic well is meshing the current with its past influences. it reaches back, reimagines the way things might have progressed differently, and flips it all on its head.

the PC Music camp and its longtime collaborators—most certainly Charli xcx—were always going to have their time in the sunlight only after the primary artists move on even further from it; this album even, for as wildly left-field as it can be, never leans too heavily in those moments on the bubblegum bass and hyperpop that were rising and exploding in popularity around its release. the most viscerally intense moments it has to offer—Click's violent, ear-pulverizing outro and the entirety of Shake It's noxious atmosphere—feel less like the wonderfully reinvented pop of SOPHIE's BIPP and more like a divergence nearer to the industrial dance of Arca's Entrañas.

Charli sounds like a character portrait then, fitting with its title, elements of nearly all of her now extensive career existing within a single album, convincingly smashed together. it feels like the ultimate creative watershed, the moment that her boundless potential became fully realized in album form, the first truly masterful, cohesive project she masterminded. Vroom Vroom, Number 1 Angel, and Pop 2 immediately preceding it were progressive takes in their own right, especially each of their most adventurous moments, but the conceptual brush that paints this release is what makes it stand out so vividly from front to back.

its fuzzy introduction as calling card and statement of intent in Next Level Charli is a beautifully mystical and virtual elevation of self, a reinvention of her to-date more experimental pathways. and the following tracks are near-perfect amplifications of admiration for its pre-y2k focal points, most pointedly on Gone and 1999, with the former's danceable breakdown and the latter's nostalgic synth strikes. it is a futuristic look back and cacophony, exemplified further with the vaguely foreboding, murky synths of Cross You Out, and the aforementioned Click with its claustrophobic and totalizing ego trip. this set of five stands alone, a blissfully tuned-in set of experimental pop blockbusters; all of the collaborators involved provide some of their most energetic and creatively disparate style molds, amalgamating into a truly one-of-a-kind combination.

and while the following songs skip around, not directly bound to what connects them at the hip to other tracks, they still all tie in emotional outings, even the characteristically 'weaker' moments like Blame It on Your Love and I Don't Wanna Know, as much as they both still tap into respectively excitable and introspective moments; neither are outright missteps in any way, their skittering themes of ignorance in love still being tenable avenues in mirrored ideas. that's about all there is to say about where it might trip up just a little; even the final moments' constant barrage of changes doesn't feel like fitting too many ideas in at the buzzer, instead shape-shifting towards a look into the future more acutely, both within Charli's own character and without at the world she inhabits.

along the way, White Mercedes, Silver Cross, and February 2017 offer interestingly tepid oddities that all end up morphed into unique expressions of love and lamenting, blending together strong affections with buzzing electronics. and Official is one of the most deeply affecting songs she's ever written, a self-described difficult indulgence that results in an alluringly special moment in her discography; its little details, as subtle as the breath she takes ahead of the second verse, are spellbinding.

which is what makes the whispering, robotic introduction of Shake It so confounding; Charli's voice is suddenly alien and disconnected, and each guest is completely transfixed on brazen drives; it's hair-raising in its overwhelming personality and explosivity. it's yet another one-of-a-kind moment for her and those involved, outdoing Click with its performances and sheer, raunchy bombast. so while coming immediately after Official might make the purpose of both a bit weaker, they're snug at each other's hips in a very realistically human way; their purposes overlap more than initially realized, and your eyes widen and mouth drops more and more as the song continuously ups the ante and bears down on your eardrums.

and the project closes in on its thesis right after, a two-part embrace of near memories and embracing an uncertain future, indebted with concern about the way stories of love and devotion and interconnectedness within that modern life will continue. it does a similar lot of heavy lifting alongside Next Level with bookending Charli's purpose, reckoning present-day relationships and navigating the world as Charli sees it. bringing back Troye Sivan to doubly match as reprise is brilliant, beginning with heart throbs and ending in a wonderfully glitchy, harmonic pile.

the album acutely sketches, through borrowing and carefully reinventing the old and present, the structure of what makes pop albums so gripping and immediately human. its wire frame wanes in just the right ways, cutting abruptly with noise, lust, utter adoration, and complete rejection. the moments it nails loop back in on themselves self-referentially and hypnotically throughout its hefty runtime—one that still passes by in an instant, aching for its density to be continuously tapped and drawn upon.