On her best-known song, Robyn is huddled in the corner of a club, watching the man she wants kiss someone else. “Dancing on My Own” is the definitive sad banger, an anthemic dance track with a stoical brand of heartbreak at its core.
Sixteen years since that song was released, it continues to influence much of contemporary pop – from Lorde and Taylor Swift to Charli XCX – but Robyn has moved on. Sexistential, her first album since 2018’s Honey, sees the Swedish pop innovator take charge over nine expertly produced tracks, exploring matters of sexuality, relationships and desire with playful candour. It’s brilliant, too; Robyn’s voice is commanding but also curious, enveloped by tremendous salvos of house and electronic sounds. Written in the aftermath of a long-term relationship and while she was going through IVF, it is striking in its direct approach – a sharp contrast to the liquid sensuality and murky emotions of Honey.
This album also marks Robyn’s first co-writing sessions in years with fellow pop svengali Max Martin, with whom she collaborated for her first album, 1995’s Robyn is Here. Together, they capture the essence of a feeling, blurring the sentiments in their lyrics with the dopamine rush of pumping beats, synth chatter and the pure sensuality of her voice.
Opener “Really Real” jolts you to attention, synth effects of crystals and glass crashing to the ground mimicking the precise moment Robyn realises the relationship is over during an intimate moment with her partner. “I want to swallow but it ain’t the same,” she sings. The song diverges into a call with her mother, then again to a grinding guitar solo and back to her plaintive chorus. “Dopamine”, meanwhile, abandons our modern impulse to explain or understand everything, instead embracing the unknown and the thrill of letting go.
As is Robyn’s way, she opens up new frontiers of the female experience, whether heartbreak or liberation. This time, it’s sex and motherhood – both detached from the confines of a relationship. Single “Talk to Me” is just that, more an instruction than an invitation delivered over thudding beats and bright pulsating bursts of synths, while the title track is a vocodered rap about needing to get laid while pregnant. There’s humour here – as she recalls the true story of her doctor confusing her fantasy IVF donor, actor Adam Driver, with the comedian and actor Adam Sandler. There’s also a steeliness in her refusal to be shamed for being open about her desires while pregnant, having already faced down her fear of being a single mother.
Her explorative nature extends itself to the past. With long-time collaborator Klas Åhlund, she reimagines her 2002 single “Blow My Mind” from her album Don’t Stop the Music; the duo flip it from its original silky-sweet, wide-eyed romance into a giddy track about her bond with her three-year-old son. “Sucker for Love” fires back at her ex, mocking his cynical attitude towards her own outlook on relationships. Listeners searching for one clear message might struggle, as Robyn bounds higher and higher on “Light Up”, over jumbled samples and racing beats, towards the triumphant closer “Into the Sun”. It’s a fantastic return in which Robyn throws away her “heartbreak queen” crown and pulls on a new, altogether more outrageous mantle. It looks good on her.
