Robyn – review

Lena Dunham knew what she was doing when she deployed Robyn Carlsson's peerless Dancing on My Own during an emotionally conflicted sequence in Girls. Like the smartest disco songwriters, or her fellow Swedes ABBA, Robyn makes dance-pop with the perfect ratio of bitter to sweet. But in today's pop landscape she stands alone. Even though she's had a No 1 single (2007's With Every Heartbeat) and can fill the Academy, she's not exactly famous; her popularity still feels word-of-mouth. It's a niche but a decently proportioned one, and it suits her. Once a dissatisfied teen-pop starlet, she now operates exactly how she wants.

Robyn's scrappy dynamism has less in common with the regimented spectacles of pop's arena league than it does with Cyndi Lauper or a pre-imperial Madonna, only with more warmth and humour.

Dressed in yellow and black, and small even in platform shoes, she brings to mind a bumblebee as she buzzes tirelessly around the stage. She seems genuinely touched that so many people know the words to her tongue-in-cheek rap Konichiwa Bitches and she spins in circles with almost childlike glee during the colossal climax of Dancing on My Own. Even the two windmills that flank the stage look more like oversized toys than expensive props.

The show's energy is rave-like, with two drummers, two keyboardists and an LED screen blasting images worthy of the Chemical Brothers. If anything, it's perhaps too relentless, never pausing for breath until the final song, a slow-motion version of early hit Show Me Love blended with ABBA's Dancing Queen. But when you consider the kind of half-hearted filler to which many big pop shows resort in a token attempt at diversity, maybe that's a blessing. Both an evocatively concise songwriter and a singer of power and clarity, Robyn doesn't want to waste anybody's time. We could use more pop stars like that.

What have you been to see lately? Tell us about it on Twitter using #GdnReview