A swirling buzzsaw boast song that forgets to actually boast about anything.
The second single from BRAT — literally every critic’s #1 (or #2) album of the year — was brought up by a friend as something different, but fantastically so. Yet neither of us had any idea what the lyrics meant. So, let’s break them down.
“I went my own way and I made it
I’m your favorite reference, baby
Call me Gabbriette, you’re so inspired.”
The opening is a boast, but one laced with irony. Gabbriette refers to Gabbriette Bechtel, a model and influencer who was part of the band Nasty Cherry. In Netflix’s short-lived reality series I’m With the Band: Nasty Cherry, Charli XCX wasn’t a member — she was the creator, producer, and mentor.
No, this isn’t Neneh Cherry of “Buffalo Stance” fame. You’ve probably never heard of Nasty Cherry. They have around 60,000 Spotify listeners, three EPs, and a handful of singles. The reality show fizzled after six episodes, and despite the band naming their second EP Season 2, there was no actual second season. The third EP, fittingly titled The Movie, brought the project to a close.
Charli seems in on the joke. The line “You’re so inspired” mocks the idea that anyone would overhype her more obscure accomplishments. It’s a sly jab at fans who try to impress her by knowing everything. “Call me Gabbriette” isn’t a boast of greatness — it’s a reminder that even her minor failures are apparently iconic.
“I’m tectonic, moves, I make ’em
Shock you like defibrillators
No style? I can’t relate
I’ll always be the one.”
Charli leans into grand, nerdy imagery. Tectonic plates cause earthquakes when they shift — a term that pops up in music when artists want to sound powerful. Pairing that with defibrillators (devices used to shock a heart back to life) adds to the drama.
This whole section is a playful exaggeration. She’s no heavyweight rapper; this is indie-pop braggadocio, cartoonishly exaggerated. “I’m so powerful I’ll knock the earth off its axis and bring you back to life with a single beat.”
“Drop down, yeah
Put the camera flash on
So stylish
Baby tee is all gone.”
“Drop down” is striking a pose — a model’s move. And while a baby tee was once the peak of Y2K fashion, it’s now a symbol of immaturity. Charli isn’t playing cute anymore; she’s ditching the trends. This shift from “baby tee” to “icon” is all part of her fashion evolution.
“Yeah, 360
When you’re in the mirror, do you like what you see?
When you’re in the mirror, you’re just looking at me
I’m everywhere, I’m so Julia.”
A 360 spin — posing from every angle — is the ultimate model flex. But Charli isn’t a supermodel. She’s taking on the persona of her famous friends, like Julia Fox, the actress and model best known for Uncut Gems and brief relationship with Kanye West.
Julia isn’t exactly Cindy Crawford or Heidi Klum; she’s more in the Chloë Sevigny or Alexa Chung category — an “It Girl” whose fame is driven as much by her personality as her career. Charli isn’t trying to be a traditional star; she’s part of the same effortlessly cool orbit.
“When you’re in the party b-b-bumpin’ that beat
666 with a princess streak
I’m everywhere, I’m so Julia.”
The “666” lyric is Charli playing into her devil-may-care image, contrasted with a princess streak — a little girly indulgence. It’s punkish, unserious, and dripping with irony.
And then there’s the line:
“That city sewer slut’s the vibe.”
It’s as grotesque as it is deliberate. The sewer slut aesthetic — gritty, trashy, and hyper-stylized — is a fashion statement. Charli’s adopting the exaggerated grunge of downtown club kids. It’s not real filth; it’s curated filth.
A.G. Cook and the Boast Track Subversion
“Legacy is undebated
You gon’ jump if A.G. made it
If you love it, if you hate it
I don’t fing care what you think.”
A.G. Cook is Charli’s longtime collaborator and a pioneer of hyperpop. The “jump” she refers to is both literal and metaphorical — his chaotic production inspires movement, even from reluctant listeners.
There’s a tradition of boast tracks in pop and hip-hop — songs dripping with excess and confidence. Charli’s version twists the trope. Unlike the diamonds and champagne of Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings” or the opulent flexes of Cardi B’s “Money”, Charli brags about her obscure reality show, her niche producer friend, and a DIY fashion sense.
Even compared to Biggie’s “Juicy”, where the late rapper celebrated middle-class comforts like a Super Nintendo, Charli’s boasts are gleefully unserious. No private jets or penthouses here — just selfies, baby tees, and the thrill of making a scene.
Final Thoughts
The production of “360” is gloriously chaotic. Charli’s voice punches through buzzing synths and clapping percussion, her monotone delivery serving as a rhythmic anchor. She’s not trying to croon a beautiful melody — she’s demanding your attention.
The video adds to the absurdity. There’s Charli pouring red wine while wobbling on a vibration plate (an exercise device of questionable effectiveness). She straddles a hospital bed-ridden man, poses with outdated computers, and walks through a crumbling restaurant as waiters smash chairs for her dramatic entrance. It’s a farce, but a glamorous one.
That “360” made it to pop radio at all is astonishing. It’s not a hit in the traditional sense, but it’s infectious. And for all its bizarre references and self-deprecating boasts, it’s proof that Charli’s pop sensibility remains undeniable.
Lyrical Content: B+
Song Rating: 4.5/5
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