Robyn
Sexistential
KONICHIWA/YOUNG
The title of Stockholm-based electro-pop auteur Robyn’s new album title can be read several ways. Sexistential could signal empirical (but still sexy) doctrine, one that’s bleakly, comically geared toward society’s still rampant misogyny; or it could be connected to all things fuck-positive and sensualistic. Either way, Robyn—who has rarely penned breezily emotional easy-going bangers too free from weighty personal concerns, despite their carnality—sounds as if she’s attempting to go the non-stop erotic cabaret route while still making it home in time to relieve the babysitter.
Which is not only really cool, but falls right in line with her always-mature, somewhat-confrontational manner of making desire-driven dance pop. She’s down for the physicality of it all, anytime that you’re ready. But I have a kid here. Mind your manners. Co-produced with longtime collaborator Klas Åhlund, and reuniting her with banger-anthem godhead Max Martin for their first co-writes since 2010, Sexistential is unafraid of an adult woman’s sensuality, sexuality, and the emotionalism of the space in-between. Anyone who can sing a lyric like “My babymaker’s got 20 in the clip, ready to fire” knows that they can get away with it without sounding Brat-y.
And being ready for sex isn’t Robyn’s sole meaning or messaging throughout Sexistential. When she polishes up her 2002 track “Blow My Mind,” now with a Kraftwerkian groove and older-and-wiser lyrics, she leans into being a mom with a poignancy and humor I haven’t witnessed since Ron Howard’s Parenthood film. When she sings “Let me just crush your scrumptious little face,” suddenly there are but two people in her world: mother and child. If there’s another electro-pop singer who can show such certainty, pertinence, and intimacy, let them show their face. Until then, this is Robyn’s world. We’re just renting the kid’s toys.
