Label: Island Release date: 29/11/10 Link: Official Site Buy: Amazon Before we delve into Robyn's Body Talk proper, I wonder just what it is with vaguely alternative recent female vocalists singing about robots and circuitry? Well, whatever it is, it's hard to resist falling to the charm of lyrics such as 'In fact I'm a very scientifically advanced hot momma' followed by one of those outros that is little more than post-(or intra?) coital groaning . In all seriousness though, Robyn doesn't suppose to be taken too seriously, and the fact her lyrics are so tongue in cheek in places might not be a novel prospect, but unless the artist in question is gunning for a grammy, it's a welcome one. That's Robyn all over though. 'Don't Fucking Tell Me What To Do' for example is purely juvenile in tone, and really, is there still a place in modern pop for such profound ruminations on the pressures of responsibility as 'My [insert lyric] is killing me' repeated throughout the whole song? Then again, the beat, the almost trance inducing monotone in which Robyn delivers the vocals and the naturally enticing timbre of her voice, more resigned than aggressive or rebellious, is actually rewarding. Then, she'll throw a curveball like 'We Dance To The Beat', which for the first twenty seconds sounds like it will develop into a mundane disaster. Then, over a single kick drum and constant eponymous refrain, an ever so slightly less minimal beat is introduced along with Robyn's robotized vocals intoning a kind of downbeat beautiful spoken word. Consider 'We dance to the beat of the continents shifting under our feet,' or 'we dance to the beat of false math and unrecognised genius, 'of distorted knowledge passed on' and 'of a distant rumble'. It's surprisingly evocative and one of the stand out tracks of the album by dint of it's excellent minimalist layering and composition and no less than poetic lyrics. I mean this shit would work as an avant-garde beat poem no worries. Without labouring the contrast, although in some way Robyn does that for me, Body Talk is an album that any disciples of Marina, Ellie G or Coco Sumner will take to with gusto. As with the three aforementioned examples, Robyn is occasionally far too saccharine, often completely devoid of any subtlety, but crucially, a lot of fun. And frequently, she has much better beats and a less annoying voice. And perhaps most importantly in this day and age, she lends herself damn well to electro remixes, and isn't that what we're al here for really? Body Talk is obsessed with songs about dancing, Robyn's all-conquering allure to both sexes and...fembots. If it wasn't for the almost neo-Abba quality of her vocal hooks and the way these fifteen songs stretched over an hour are actually enduringly consistent and, at the high points, quite brilliant, Robyn would be easy to hate. What Robyn really succeeds in being is a fusion of more urban pop and heavier and more tenable electro, and for all its silliness, Body Talk is an album I've already listened to more than certain high-fallutin' art-rock stalwarts, and in some bizarre, back-handed way, isn't that a mark of greatness? Photobucket