What the video game industry can learn from the queerness of BRAT
Charli XCX’s rollout of her legendary album BRAT is something to be studied, and something the games industry can learn from.
BRAT has been a dream come true as a long-time fan of Charli’s music. Almost exclusively owned by the queer community, her discography, and dare I say it, entire career, has been revered in a sub-culture that relished in not existing in the mainstream. Today, you might find it impossible to go online without coming across a Kamala Harris BRAT edit, or TikTokers dancing to “Apple”.
Picking up on this viral status on the album and Charli’s emergence into the spotlight, I realized that there’s a lot that the games industry can learn from her and the uniquely creative approach to marketing the album.
Much like the music industry, the video game industry has been ruled by an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” ethos. AAA studios tend to sit on their iron thrones gushing out new Call of Duty’s or NBA 2K‘s like clockwork. This industrial-like quality of re-selling the same product with a slightly new shiny bow each year has been the standard for what is popular in the broader sense of the culture. As an eclectic gamer who leans farthest into the realm of JRPGs, it’s been challenging for me to get non-gamers to see how versatile gaming is beyond Super Mario and Fortnite.
There’s a stigma that is still rampant in those unfamiliar, and much like Charli’s career, there’s a niche, passionate audience that might find some peace in not having their beloved titles see such massive popularity outside of their own community.
I’m starting to believe that if lesser known studios or indie developers are stumped with figuring out how to sell outside of their niche fan-based, they might benefit from taking a page out of Charli’s book.
If lesser known studios or indie developers are stumped with figuring out how to sell outside of their niche fan-based, they might benefit from taking a page out of Charli’s book.
What made BRAT so successful is not just in its (extremely) well-crafted sound, but in its world-building that is amplified by its brilliant marketing rooted in authenticity.
Charli, having begun her career as an artist performing at raves, is very much the party girl she plays herself out to be. Performing DJ sets at boiler rooms and previewing her then unreleased tracks through a loud speaker while dancing on the roof of a car in Brooklyn were ways that she invited people into her private world by leveraging the “cool” factor that exists in her audience that is often overlooked by the grander mainstream.
Notably, she created a private Instagram account where she would (almost shockingly) reveal personal stories such as her confusing relationship with Lorde and even her plastic surgery. It removed the curtain between her and her fans by honestly and shamelessly being herself without restraint.
So often, even when we ourselves as individual humans are trying to get others to hear our stories, we encounter the need to pander or change in order to be heard. This is especially true for the LGBTQ+ community, where historically, we’ve been behind the scenes creating truly innovative art that is not often acknowledged until much later down the road when it’s been replicated in the mainstream. It can feel as though that if the things we create are objectively brilliant but they don’t make tons of money, they aren’t worth selling.
BRAT has been an anomaly in this case, and also a beacon of hope for pioneers in all kinds of industries that are struggling to be seen. To see mainstream celebrities, and even a United States presidential candidate, embrace the sound from a queer-based community is something that can’t be overlooked.
This is something that I, as a queer man, would have never imagined. It turned something that I loved in secret, into something “cool” that was now being embraced by the world thanks to meme culture and social media. So if that’s the case for BRAT, why can’t that be the case for games?
It turned something that I loved in secret, into something “cool” that was now being embraced by the world thanks to meme culture and social media. So if that’s the case for BRAT, why can’t that be the case for games?
The stereotype of the “gamer” often paints a picture of a college frat brother playing Call of Duty alongside a pile of empty pizza boxes and energy drinks. This makes me think of my friends’ initial dismissal of Charli’s music, seeing it as simple glittery pop music that wasn’t “cool”.
If queer games companies were to be the ones to break the “uncool” view of gaming overall by promoting something edgy and sexy that would interest the unfamiliar, maybe they could reach an untapped market as well.
People get bored, and even the normies want something stimulating that makes them uncomfortable but interested nonetheless. While different genres of games cater to different kinds of audience, there’s something empowering about Charli’s success that leads me to believe we’re heading into a renaissance for what can be something truly different.
Take Final Fantasy 7’s success in the 90s here in the West. Square Enix smartly leveraged the game’s then groundbreaking CGI cutscenes and promoted it similarly to how action films were advertised. JRPGs and turn-based combat might have sounded like a snooze if they focused on gameplay, but because they focused on what was cool, they got their foot in the door without sacrificing a single shred of authenticity. The game was in fact a cinematic masterpiece, but that was only a single part of a very powerful whole.
Square Enix smartly leveraged the game’s then groundbreaking CGI cutscenes and promoted it similarly to how action films were advertised.
So if we’re seeing the mainstream embrace queer-based pop music openly now, this might be the time for us to strike. To build a new world around gaming that shows our community is more than the month of June and fighting for representation. What if it was less fighting, and more embracing? Less heaviness and more lightness. So often I see a lot of the focus in queer culture be about fighting to be heard, when I think we should walk it like we talk it instead. Of course, I understand why it’s been needed up until this point, but it’s time that we take our power back and walk proudly in it.
Instead of coming for AAA studios that often fall on their faces trying to pander towards the queer community by shoehorning one gay character to check a box, why not just create the games we want to see instead? Larian Studios’ Baldur’s Gate 3 left AAA developers shaking in their boots when they were able to deliver an outstanding game that can suck in players for years if they allowed themselves to.
By just simply being themselves and making a game they personally loved for people they love, they were able to disrupt in a natural way. No pitchforks or protest, just a simple act of showing up and delivering what they wanted to see exist in the world.
Maybe that’s how gaming can be more BRAT.
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