Robyn | Honey
If Ariana Grande’s Sweetener had been the feel-good pop task of the (late-ish) summer season, concentrating on the catharsis of newfound like (at the time…), after that Robyn’s Honey may be the melancholy-ridden antithesis, properly dropped in the center of drop. The Swedish singer’s eighth album streamlines psychological distress into a group of mini-narratives that ruminate on the topics of reduction, endurance, and recovery – occasionally at the same time. Opener “Missing U” telegraphs its volatile feelings by way of a whirlwind of glittering synthesizers, with the stable, thumping bassline supplying a sense of psychological equipoise, as Robyn’s fragile tone of voice laments, “There’s this empty space you left out / Now you’re not right here with me.” The lyric draws importance from Robyn’s personal living: The final four yrs saw the loss of life of her longtime collaborator, Orlando Falk, and the dissolution of her engagement to filmmaker Max Vitali. But there’s still a general option of the sentiment, and can connect with any heartbreak. For Robyn, songs represents an all-encompassing procedure for recovery – a suture that doesn’t always requirement specifics.
The Swedish singer’s eighth album streamlines psychological distress into a group of mini-narratives that ruminate on the topics of loss, stamina, and recuperation.
The stretch out of tracks on Honey from “INDIVIDUAL” to “Send to Robin Instantly” assist as a stinging recoil from the boldness of “Missing U.” Minimalist synths, and the fluttering pianos melodies of “Infant Forgive Myself,” all telegraph the somber retreat in to the emotions of defeat due to heartbreak. But, the self-titled centerpiece monitor arrives charging in, with also its cascading, home music-styled production getting subsumed by Robyn’s commanding efficiency: “No, you’re not really gonna get the thing you need / But infant, I have what you would like.” This is actually the reclaiming of dropped self-confidence, boldly using back handle of the album’s narrative and segueing right into a liberated suite that’s danceable (“Between your Lines,” a direct banger) and unconventional (the deliberately breezy get away of “Beach2k20”). The newfound buoyancy and power of Honey‘s latter half is usually encapsulated by its nearer, as Robyn repeats an individual maxim (“In no way gonna be brokenhearted / Again”) and utilizes the progression of a pounding drum kick to create strength. The emphatic expression, a whole 180 from the album’s start, seems nearly too much: like the majority of things in lifetime, grief and pleasure comprise a cycle, without real finality. But also for now, at the very least, Robyn’s intent to get over that reality registers its power.