Charli XCX at The O2: the Brat victory lap from a star reminding us she’s still a fan, first and foremost

Nobody is more deserving of mainstream success than Charli XCX. For 18 years, she’s put in the hard yards, hammering the live circuit and steadily amassing a catalogue of weapons-grade party-starters that have consistently pushed the pop envelope forward. It took until 2022 for her to score her first number one album – with the unapologetically accessible Crash – but 2024 will go down in history as the year the 32-year-old finally got her flowers.

To say Brat is a phenomenon is the understatement of the century. Since its release back in June, it’s earned Charli Grammy and Mercury Prize nominations, a number one remix, viral TikTok trends and a prestigious spot hosting SNL. There was barely a brand this summer that didn’t flirt with the album’s basic Arial typeface and toxic green colourway, while the catch-all concept was co-opted for Kamala Harris’ ill-fated election campaign. When Collins Dictionary crowned ‘brat’ word of the year (definition: characterised by a confident, independent and hedonistic attitude) the entire western world shrugged, ‘Fair enough.’ 

So to see Charli finally headline The O2 feels like some long-overdue karma. It’s a sense clearly shared by tonight’s sell-out audience, large swathes of which teeter on the edge of utter hysteria throughout. Watching her stride out in front of the neon green curtain – all waist-length hair extensions, knee-high boots and wrap-around shades – you get the sense she’s been selling out arenas in her mind for years. 

In keeping with the album’s minimal aesthetic, it’s a bare-bones stage set-up, centred around a giant floor print that simply reads ‘GIRL’, a curtain drop to mark the encore to unveil the accompanying ‘PARTY’, and a rain shower at the end of the runway for the penultimate ‘Track 10’ before a riotous finale of the chart hit that started it all in 2012, ‘I Love It’. Mostly, though, it’s a shit-tonne of strobes and a short perspex catwalk down which Charli regularly disappears, taking her roaming camera operator with her. Taking cues from Rosalia’s recent Motomami tour, her moves are performed straight to camera and relayed on the video screens. When the camera cuts to her boyfriend George Daniel performing the viral ‘Apple’ dance in the audience, or to her spitting on and licking the catwalk during ‘Guess’, it feels enjoyably chaotic despite being meticulously choreographed.

As ever, Charli’s live persona is pure aggression, motivating the audience like a pissed-off personal trainer might with a “Are you fucking ready London!” here and a “Where’s my fucking bad girls at?” there. It’s the perfect vibe match for A. G. Cook’s belligerent beats, which thud ominously through the PA system at barely-legal volumes. From ‘360’’s it-girl rap to ‘Von Dutch’’s hater-bating house, every song incites a word-perfect scream-along, with the exception of the tender SOPHIE tribute ‘So I’, which remains extremely moving. Indeed, SOPHIE’s legacy is interwoven throughout, from the airing of ‘Immaterial’ that ushers in Charli’s initial entrance to the riotous version of ‘Vroom Vroom’ that arrives in the encore.

It proves a hyperactive homecoming, finding our self-styled 365 Party Girl racing through the hour-and-a-half set, zig-zagging seamlessly between standalone single ‘Spring Breakers’ and the Lorde remix of ‘Girl, So Confusing’, or from Barbie movie-cut ‘Speed Drive’ to insecurity anthem ‘Sympathy Is A Knife’. For the encore she brings out Caroline Polachek to perform their shared remixes of ‘Everything Is Romantic’ and ‘Welcome To My Island’, swiftly followed by Robyn and Yung Lean who reprise their turns on the ‘360’ remix. Charli then gives Robyn the stage to perform ‘Dancing On My Own’ to a truly rapturous reception. Watching Charli, Shygirl and Yung Lean dance along ecstatically at the back of the stage, you feel a real sense of kinship with them as fellow fans. 

It’s moments like these that illustrate what’s so intoxicating about Charli, both a collaborator and a solo star. Alongside impeccable taste, she possesses the generosity and enthusiasm of a true music obsessive, hell-bent on sharing her findings rather than her gatekeeping or quibbling over billing for the sake of ego. And as a result of this seemingly boundless passion, every single pop fan can count themselves better off. Now that’s brat.

Lead photo by Henry Redcliffe