Robyn, Alone Again

Robyn’s got a new video for Dancing On My Own, and it’s the kind of thing you watch alone, maybe more than once. Dark visuals, that sharp beat that makes you want to move even though the song is about standing still and being invisible. There’s a big black sky over my city. I’m standing in the corner watching you kiss her. I’m right over here - why can’t you see me?

It’s about being present and unseen at the same time. About giving everything and still being the girl you don’t take home. The video makes it literal - she’s there, moving, alive, and somehow that makes the rejection sharper. The sadness is structural, built into every beat. It’s designed to make you feel small in a way that almost feels good.

The video is mostly just Robyn in darkness, the light sharp enough to cut her face into planes and shadows. She’s moving like she’s dancing for herself, not for the person who’s not watching. That distinction matters. A lot of sad songs ask for sympathy, but this one doesn’t ask for anything.

What’s always struck me about Robyn is how unflinching she is about this. No softening, no performance - just the fact of it, stated plainly. There’s something quietly masculine in the way she moves, a refusal to soften her edges. She’s not trying to be appealing in the way you’d expect someone singing about heartbreak to be.

She’s not coming back to Germany for a while, touring London, Oslo, Helsinki instead. But there’s a new album coming in June - Body Talk Pt. 1 - and that’s enough to hold onto.