robyn dancing on my own where did i hear

There was a point after Robyn’s mid-2000s reappearance, says her friend and collaborator Joseph Mount of the British band Metronomy, where you started hearing “more than one Robyn-style track on every pop person’s record”. At a time when a new generation of music critics were starting to question the received wisdom that pop was less “authentic” than rock, Robyn’s musically adventurous, heart-piercing hits chalked one up for “poptimism”, making indie nerds lighten up and revealing teenybopper fare to be thin gruel. After debuting as a major-label teenage R&B singer in the 1990s, Robyn re-emerged in 2005 with her own independent label and a new electronic sound, scored her first UK No 1 and re-established the X-Factored mainstream as a space for credible pop. There is something ironic about these efforts to reverse-engineer a figure who has defined herself against the music industry’s lack of imagination. “She’s what I strive to be in a sense of making my own choices and staying true to myself,” says Larsson, whose 2015 single Lush Life went many-times-platinum in countries including the US. In 2013, when 15-year-old Zara Larsson wanted to take her homegrown success stateside, American label executives kept telling her about this other Swedish teenager who broke through there when Larsson was in utero. Entire cottage industries have formed to produce the next great star in her image: there is a steady flow of young female artists from beyond the North Sea who are hopefully, vainly labelled “the new Robyn”. Her absence has only underlined her importance. The longer she was away, the more desperate her fans grew, counting the agonising years as if waiting for their husbands to return from war. Since 2010 – when she released Body Talk, the album that confirmed her as one of the most influential pop artists of the past 20 years – Robyn has lost one of her oldest friends, split from her long-term partner, released three collaborative EPs, questioned whether she should continue making music, reunited with her long-term partner and re-evaluated her entire life. The night marked the release of Missing U, the first single from Robyn’s first solo album in eight years. At 2.10am, she climbed on to the DJ booth to shimmy to Barbara Tucker’s deep house classic Beautiful People, phone camera flashes illuminating the sweaty fug.

Wearing her “purple rain” disco pants (one resplendent fringed leg, one bare) and wielding a glass of white wine, she snuck a song from her new album in between selections of South African jazz, New York soul and Chicago house. I n Ibiza, at the beginning of August, the Swedish pop icon Robyn was throwing a party at Pikes, the small, labyrinthine villa where Wham! filmed the video for Club Tropicana.

Robyn dancing on my own where did i hear