This year, the electro-fembot reigns supreme over the glittering stratosphere of pop. Each starlet has her own quirk; Little Boots and her Moogs, La Roux and the ‘do, Peaches and her, er, sex. Maybe ‘Body Talk Pt 1’ would show a distinctive style for Robyn, the Swedish ambassador in the lady-synth stakes.
 
The opening “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What To Do” is more of a bitch-fest than a tirade on the senses. More Bridget Jones than GI Jane, Robyn lists the things that piss her off. “My boss is killing me” and “my boyfriend is killing me”. Without the use of a powerful AV display, it sounds disappointingly whiny.
 
The new single ‘Dancing On My Own” sounds more promising. Fresh and poppy, it’s nonetheless about Robyn once again being unlucky in the love department, but has enough beat to make it a good song in a club, on an iPod in the gym or for a bit of DIY. Strong and decent throwaway pop, it’s not one for the record collection but is likeable and energetic.
 
Taking a tropical and somewhat bizarre twist, Robyn goes raga for ‘Dancehall Queen’. Not quite what you’d expect to find on an elfin-featured, Scandinavian woman’s album; it’s fun and quirky nonetheless and shows the experimental flare of Lily Allen for her bolshy and creative samples.
 
The softer spots of the album are found in ‘Hang With Me’. Teetering on insipid and waveringly boring, it would appeal more to teens in a cuddle than being blasted to a field of festival goers. ‘Jag Vet En Dejlig Rosa (I Know a Lovely Rose)’ does well to captivate Robyn’s fragility and is the more enjoyable and open side to her songwriting.
 
‘Body Talk Pt. 1’ isn’t an album of defiance. What it lacks in fierceness is replaced with laid-bare emotions and scatterings of fun and creativity. Behind the faux anger lies a blossoming pop princess with a fun and low-maintenance musical repertoire.

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