There’s an electric pulse that beats through Robyn’s music. Across eight studio albums spanning three decades, the Swedish popstar straddled – and, in many cases, spearheaded – the incursion of electronic and dance music into mainstream pop canon. While her lyrics remained loyal to traditional tales of love, heartbreak and fierce independence, Robyn’s contribution was to juxtapose these with club-ready electro and Europop production – creating massive and dramatic soundscapes that helped define the sound of 21st-century pop. 

This legacy was fully realised with Robyn’s 2005 self-titled LP, Robyn, reissued today (September 12) in honour of its 20th anniversary. While her first three projects sat much closer to boom-bap and R&B, Robyn was looking to experiment with her fourth full-length release. She bought herself out of her deal with Jive Records, frustrated by the label’s attempts to market her as the next Christina Aguilera in the States, and founded her own imprint, Konnichiwa Records, to give herself full creative control. The result was a watershed moment in Robyn’s career, borrowing cutting-edge electronic production from Swedish stars The Knife and Teddybears, and creating the bittersweet dance anthems she would soon be known for. 

Today, Robyn’s fingerprints are all over modern pop music. Listening back to the audacious Europop anthems of her self-titled release today, it’s hard to ignore the parallels with Charli xcx’s zeitgeist-defining Brat (which Robyn also appeared on). Meanwhile, the revolutionary Swedish artist also helped launch the career of one of the 21st century’s most prolific songwriters, Max Martin, with her debut 1995 album Robyn Is Here. Martin has since gone on to write the second-most number one singles, after only Paul McCartney, and also played an integral role in the early success of Britney Spears after Robyn left Jive Records. In fact, the head of Jive Records at the time was even quoted as calling Spears an “American Robyn – a Europop teen queen… easier to control than the ‘forceful’ Swedish teenager”. 

In honour of this “forceful teenager” who has since revolutionised pop music with her own independent vision, we rank Robyn’s five best tracks. 

5. “THE GIRL AND THE ROBOT FEAT. ROBYN” – RÖYKSOPP 

In many ways, “the girl and the robot” encapsulates Robyn’s revolutionary legacy: a career built on the interplay between emotional vulnerability and electronic precision. The first of many collaborations with Norwegian duo Röyksopp, this Grammy-nominated 2009 track finds Robyn longing for a cold, emotionally distant partner. The song’s rich emotional narrative unfolds over Röyksopp’s layered production – a mix of choral swells and early dubstep textures – building into the kind of soaring dance-pop epic that Robyn makes her home in. (SPM)

4. “COBRASTYLE”

In all of Robyn’s cinematic pop epics, it’s easy to forget the light-hearted cut “Cobrastyle”, but it’s arguably one of her most timeless releases. It’s not a visceral breakup anthem, nor an incisive analogy for being a social outcast – these aren’t even Robyn’s own lyrics, the track itself being a cover of Teddybears and Jamaican dancehall artist Mad Cobra’s 2004 rock-tinged ragga track of the same name. But it is undeniably fun. On the track, Robyn incorporates Swedish slang and a female perspective into Cobra’s patois lyrics, creating a sassy addition to Robyn’s first independent release. Meanwhile, Teddybears’ overhauled production introduces an oscillating electro beat that feels right at home in the post-Brat sonic landscape 20 years on. (SPM)

3. “DANCING ON MY OWN”

A victim of its own success, “Dancing on My Own” has been overplayed throughout the years and suffered from the popularity of Callum Scott’s dreary, maudlin piano cover (one of the worst covers of all time – the lyrics just don’t make sense when the music isn’t danceable! 🤬) But let’s be real: it’s still one of the best pop songs of all time. As she recounts seeking out an ex-boyfriend only to find him with someone else, Robyn powerfully captures the feeling of being lonely on the dance floor; the yearning disappointment of a night out that doesn’t turn out as you’d hoped; the combination of melancholy and euphoria as you try to have a good time despite it all. Poignant and exhilarating, it deserves its place in the canon of “inherently sad gay disco anthems”, which Robyn said inspired it. (JG) 

2. “BE MINE!”

Today, Robyn might be most memorable as the Queen of bittersweet bangers, dancing through the tears on hits like “Dancing on My Own”, but, in many ways, “Be Mine!” is where it all started. Arriving as the lead single from her self-titled 2006 album, which marked a far cry from her previous hip-hop/R&B releases, all the elements of a classic Robyn hit are here for the first time: big motifs (this time in the form of tense, orchestral strings), club-ready kicks, and a yearning tale of being forgotten by an ex-lover. It’s an epic track, complete with a cinematic, spoken-word bridge section in which she describes spotting her ex’s new partner wearing the scarf that Robyn had initially given him, before wiping away the tears and announcing: “You looked happy, that’s great, I just miss you, that’s all.” This is Robyn at her very best. (SPM) 

1. “CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND”

There is a lot of great music about being a side chick – Nina Simone’s “The Other Woman”, Lana del Rey’s “Sad Girl”, SZA’s “The Weekend”, to name but a few – and “Call Your Girlfriend” is up there with the best of them. Unlike some songs in this micro-genre, there’s nothing gloating about Robyn’s lyrics as she guides her lover through ending his current relationship. The advice she offers is mature and gracious: “tell her that the only way her heart will mend is when she learned to love again, and it won’t make sense right now but you’re still her friend.” (The cruel, smug narrator of Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” should take note!)

What I love most about the song, though, is its ambiguity: maybe her lover really is going to go through with it, or maybe she’s just fooling herself, and the magnanimous stance she’s adopting is a way of suppressing the realisation that she herself is disposable. The music is upbeat, with soaring synths and a propulsive beat, but there’s an underlying note of sadness, or even desperation, which doesn’t spell a happy ending. This sense of uneasy tidings is heightened by the video – easily one of Robyn’s best – in which she dances around a grey, empty warehouse, furiously punching the air. (JG)