Robyn sits silently, eyes closed, for what feels like a full minute. “Wow,” she says. “This is really deep” It has been eight years since this elder stateswoman of alt-pop released music. She is talking about how, since then, her life has fractured and reassembled. The 46-year-old Swede’s previous album, Honey, was finished in the afterglow of repairing her engagement to director Max Vitali. Now, she’s no longer in that relationship, she’s raising a three-year-old son, Tyko, whom she had by IVF, on her own, and she has also reckoned with the scars of her own childhood, growing up in an exploitative music industry.
We meet in a breezy attic above a recording studio in London to talk about her new album, Sexistential – an ode to letting your guard down and feeling things deeply. “Defending my right to be myself and be vulnerable,” she says. She’s wearing biker boots and a mesh hoodie, and has tucked a bomber jacket, two overflowing handbags and a black leather sailor hat into the nooks and crannies of the sofa as if constructing a nest around herself. She’s thrilled to be back. “I’ve never released an album as a parent, so it’s really exciting to work.” She laughs, flashing a chipped tooth. “When I do get time for myself, it’s liberating and fun.”
