Send "Robyn " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 "Fembots have feelings, too." When we first heard Robyn sing those words, on a single promoting what would become a three-volume set of mini-LPs all bearing the name Body Talk, it was easy to focus on the Swedish pop singer's quirky sense of humor. But on this new full-length edition, "Fembot" also reveals itself as a compelling statement of purpose. Playing off contemporary pop's age-old diva-as-robot trope and cautioning that fellow droids who "burn out" are "ready for demolition," Robyn suggests that it's completely possible to be a pop star and also seek emotional connection.If that's Robyn's artistic credo, then Body Talk is living, breathing, cybernetic proof. Melding dancehall with bubblegum pop, heartbroken love songs with hilariously catty weirdness, and euphorically catchy melodies with propulsive rhythms, Body Talk-- which combines the five-song Body Talk Pt. 3 with, outside of Pt. 1's uncommonly wise "Cry When You Get Older", the highlights from the first two mini-albums-- is a deeply affecting pop record. Robyn may not have released three full albums this year as first implied, but her first true full-length in five years is one of the year's best. What sets Robyn apart from her contemporaries is the three-dimensional complexity of her character, and all sides are on display here. There's plenty of don't-fuck-with-me attitude in the icy electro-throb of "Don't Fucking Tell Me What to Do", which introduces a shit-talking heroine who may be flawed but won't be anyone's pawn. And with production by Diplo, the mock-outrageous Jamaica homage "Dancehall Queen" proves she's not kidding. But she's also sensitive enough that, during one of Body Talk's most inspired moments-- the soaringly tuneful electro-pop ballad "Call Your Girlfriend"-- she tells her boyfriend exactly how to break it off with the other woman to inflict the least emotional damage....full text |
| Popmatters |
| By effectively combining all of the best moments of Robyn’s Body Talk trilogy, this massive full-length album should be rightly hailed for containing the most dramatic, forward-thinking pop music to come around all year, cementing the Swedish dance queen’s reputation as one of the smartest, wittiest, and exciting artists currently out there. Really, the whole thing doubles over as celebration for her extraordinary 2010, wherein after a bit of an absence from the music scene (let’s not forget her last disc—the insta-classic Robyn—initially came out in 2005) she gave us not just one but three albums of new music, scored a UK Top 10 hit with “Dancing on My Own”, and will soon be topping tons upon tons of year-end best-of lists for continuing to explore the many facets of her cathartic pop leanings. Unfortunately, the true reality is this: the three Body Talk mini-albums—as fantastic as they are—are by no means perfect, and by slinging all the best moments together on a “greatest hits” reel, something gets lost in translation. Although both Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 were weighed down by only a few less-than-stellar moments, their skimmed-down track listings (only eight tracks a piece!) made Robyn’s eccentricities very digestible, and therefore, quite endearing. When spread out over 15 tracks, however, said eccentricities begin to thematically repeat themselves, and suddenly we find that we’re losing a bit of the uniqueness that drew us into Robyn’s world in the first place. Some of the problem rests with things as simple as track placement: Body Talk, Pt. 1 opener “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do” worked because its teasing acapella line “My drinkin’ is killing me” served as fantastic way to jump right into Robyn’s abrasive, pop-on-her-own-terms world, putting forth a persona that’s rough around the edges yet hopelessly romantic at the core. Yet when said track is third in line on the Body Talk full-length, its in-your-face impact is considerably weakened, especially when following the trashy fun of a song like “Fembot”. Suddenly, songs that we once considered out-and-out highlights lose a bit of their sheen when placed in a new, thematic context. So while Body Talk serves as a general overview of all three parts of the series (the five Pt. 3 tracks make their debut here, but are also available separately), not only does it fail to cohere as a solid full-length, but there are a few glaring omissions. While Pt. 1 contained such smart, sky-scraping hits like “Dancing on My Own”, “Fembot”, and the dark, sexy club-throb of “None of Dem” (aided by Röyksopp) and Pt. 2 featured slightly more off-kilter selections like the downright experimental “We Dance to the Beat” and the thundering Snoop Dogg-assist of “U Should Know Better”, extraordinary tracks like “Include Me Out” (from Pt. 2) and the powerful anthem “Cry When You Get Older” (from Pt. 1) fall to the wayside to make room for respectable-but-not-incredible efforts like “Dancehall Queen” and “In My Eyes”. Suddenly, Body Talk is racking up B+ efforts and trying to pass them off as top-of-the-class winners, leaving the end result to be more deflating than thrilling....full text |
| Musicomh |
| To say this has been Robyn's year is an understatement. She's filtered the Euro club-pop heritage and blasted it out across Body Talk Pt 1 and Pt 2. The third part of the trilogy slices five cuts from each and adds five more to tie the project off. This is a micro greatest hits from a phenomenal talent. Having already pumped two albums out in a year, Body Talk is, in isolation, still spectacular. From the street stomp mantra of Don't Fucking Tell Me What To Do that's emblazoned with art school cynicism, through to the unadulterated love pains of new track Call Your Girlfriend, Robyn consistently summons a euphoria that is rained on and exacerbated by whimsy. It always starts with the rhythms, even though Robyn's eyes are cast firmly on melody as she plays with and tweaks the hypnotic, seductive synth loops. Robyn songs churn with electronic sumptuousness and will be peppered with playful vocal edits, but she's going to break your heart as well. Hang With Me, much like monster hit With Every Heartbeat, screams sadness in its Giorgio Moroder-like arpeggios as she adds "If you keep it tight/I'll confide in you" in a way that makes the word 'tight' grab and hold you. There's a subtlety here that most big commercial pop can't get its head around. This isn't to say Robyn can't do sexy, aggressive or defensive. U Should Know Better sees her standing tall against Snoop Dogg's lazy magnificence. As Snoop ponders his cash and libido, Robyn ponders her cash with a happy conviction that she runs the planet, ultimately declaring "the Lord of Darkness himself knows better than to fuck with me". Sweden has long punched above its weight with music, but Robyn deserves a special spotlight. Swedish House Mafia are mangling early '90s dance and setting it as the solid cornerstone of today's UK pop-rap phenomenon; their sound is merely Robyn turned up with added oldskool sentiment. Production hype will come and go; Robyn knows when and how to associate with it, but then she leaves it behind....full text |
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