She had the prescience around the turn of the century to reject a deal with Jive Records, embrace her edgier club influences, and start her own imprint. Her genius was too great and too peculiar for the frothy Max Martin ditties of her youth, despite her early success with them in the ’90s. Throughout her career, Robyn has thrived by rejecting the pop music machine. It seems possible that these moments are essential turns in our own journey, and that we are indestructible in them after all. Through her music, we discover our loneliest moments are no longer just valleys to suffer and endure: They are deeper, even beautiful, glimpses into our humanity. Without sermonizing, she shows us the dignity in our sorrow-throwing her heartbreak onto the dance floor, gulping in its neon glow like photosynthesis.
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