Number 4 of 2007 — Robyn: Robyn

In my messed-up head, where I live most of my Real Life, there’s a world dedicated to music. The Pop Continent is currently inhabited by four artists: Annie, Bertine Zetlitz, Margaret Berger and Robyn. Some musicians occasionally fly in for a holiday, others let their boats wash aground on its sandy beaches only for the tide to draw them gently away later, but these four are pretty permanent.

So here’s Robyn’s album: a 2005 creation which eluded the UK for two years until it was finally released in 2007 (then withdrawn and re-released) and only officially worked its way across the US this year, tour in tow.

One benefit of those two years is the inclusion of additional songs including the collaboration with Kleerup for With Every Heartbeat, first unveiled on his MySpace page in 2006. Nearly two years on, that harbour lights string intro still mourns over the unstoppable chugging drumbeat, moving everything on but the eternal grief, a feeling which is so clearly illustrated in its video. The constant cohort in this work of art is Klas Åhlund, who produced and co-wrote most of the album. Swedish techno-weirdos The Knife helped out on Who’s That Girl, with tell tale icy production and metallic toms.

There are two main draws to this album: the marriage of techno and electro to pop and r’n’b makes it more edgy than it might otherwise have been, and Robyn has a decade of music industry experience to use and expose. Even knowing this, the inseparable Curriculum Vitae and Konichiwa Bitches which begin the album still manage to sound too overblown and jokey when first unveilled. This Is The Whole Point, of course, but I think the satire might still be lost on some. Ultimately, Konichiwa Bitches is a grower because of its lyrics and scatty musical diversity – so many ideas squeezed into its short lifespan. The crashing (not crushing) emptiness that comes from its conclusion only heightens the arpeggiator sequence that opens and drives throughout Cobrastyle – a Teddybears cover and the first truly great track on this album, firmly targeted to the dancefloor.

Ballads appear to be compulsory to every pop album, but the artful ones disguise themselves, avoiding the usual strings-and-things arrangement, instead going for the simplest backing, maybe turning them into torch songs. Eclipse does both, using an upright bass and echoed piano to draw out the emotion in Robyn’s voice, which stuns with its chorus ‘the day I break your heart.’ It’s not just a prediction, it’s a promise. Another trick is to turn up the tempo, which Handle Me and Bum Like You do. The former brings in sawed cello and sparkling acoustic guitar strums to contrast with its beats. Bum Like You withdraws further, using a minimal synth backing offset by more rhythmic inventiveness to confess to a clumsy messed-up relationship. Even through this, she manages to sigh “...but it’s alright,” and that almost aches too much. This technique works best on Should Have Known, which is the most naked song, multitracking Robyn’s vocals over simple beats and just a fragment of melody. These are anti-ballads from a universe where indulgent sentimentality doesn’t exist.

Be Mine! appears to grab spoonfuls of string attitude from With Every Heartbeat and pours them over more palpitating rhythms to form another downbeat / upbeat song about unrequited love. Again Robyn’s vocals and her sometimes juvenile lyrics give more poignancy to this song. Doubly so, because it appears immediately before With Every Heartbeat, a song so terribly sad that even the almost obsessive repetition of ‘And it hurts with every heartbeat’ still comes across as understatement.

Robyn has an ability to confound expectations and musical prejudices, turning Robotboy from a twee “hey little ‘droid” piano ballad into twee pop. Even Crash and Burn Girl manages to escape from the clutches of camp disco and as it does so uncovers some hard hitting advice for younger wannabes.

Despite the collaborations and the musical variation throughout Robyn, it’s clear why it had to be self-titled. Robyn is both a rebirth and a powerful statement of her confidence, sweeping away all-comers who grew like weeds in her absence, even though she never really disappeared.

Robyn – iTunes UK
Robyn – Amazon UK
Official Website
Robyn – YouTube