Thursday, September 2, 2010

Body Talk pt. 1, Robyn

This review is long overdue. And, I hesitated for a reason. When the album was first released I knew I enjoyed it. But, I knew I didn't enjoy it enough. I felt I wasn't connecting the way I was supposed to connect. Was I to blame? Or, the music?

On my first few listens, I thought Body Talk pt. 1 lacked an emotional backbone. The music and lyrics were fun, but lacked something sturdy. There was an emptiness to the sound. Many of the lyrics were too repetitive. But, all my friends love the album. Compared it with other pop albums I enjoy. What was the problem? I soon found out...

The atmosphere. Body Talk pt. 1 is a pure dance floor album. Not all the songs will work on the floor, but a handful will and do. When I first danced to 'Dancing on my Own' I learned what all the fuss was about. I rarely experience something so grand as singing word for word along with Robyn while I danced on my own. She captured a moment. A truth. A reality. An existence for those of us who crave the floor.

And, when I danced to "Don't Fucking Tell Me What to Do" I fell in love with the repetition. The song no longer seemed silly, shallow, or lazy. The version I danced to was a remix, but the song itself is what stood out. Sometimes you need something easy to grab hold of... to latch onto... to sing a repetitive chorus into the crowd of a hipster dance hall. This was when I finally understood the pure genius of Robyn.

After dancing to Robyn, the songs no longer seem empty. I am always reminded of the experience. The crowd and the sound and the connection. It all sounds a little addictive... drugged up and out. That is exactly how Robyn works. She seeps in slowly and then won't let go.

B

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