With Body Talk, Part 1, Robyn has crafted an excellent albums worth of pop, the way, say, Abba, dealt in pop. Two sure shots, a coupla of eccentricities, a number of pure dance songs, a full on ballad and a weird Swedish folk song.
Sure, the weird one, “Don’t fucking Tell Me”, is a bit to weird, and one of the dance numbers “Fembot” is obvious beyond the necessary.
But “Dancing On My Own” is already, and rightfully, a hit: a sweet melody and a cheesy snyth plus drum machine that drills uits way into your pleasure zone and doesn’t leave. “Cry When You get older” is one reason to call down the gods of Abba -as pure a pop thrill as you’ll hear this year. The other reason is “Dancehall Queen” with its itles echo of the Abba masterpiece, and its faint whiff of dub in the sound -strange stuff -but not bad at all.
With only 8 songs, Body Talk, Pt 1 makes its points and then leaves you to consider the options. It is small but not slight and I was sorry to hear there is still Pt 2 and 3 to arrive this year. I think she coulda rode this album for three hits and toured behind it. One thing for sure, it should make her a fully fledged pop star.