Tove Styrke finds new directions on I thought this story wasn't about me

The Stockholm-based artist first emerged in the early 2010s with her own distinct take on dancefloor minded pop ("Say My Name" was one of Rolling Stone's top songs of the decade), but each successive album pointed to a songwriter not content with being so easily labelled. After 2022's inhibitions-shedding HARD, she took some time away from music to renew her sense of purpose, as well as having a kid, and I thought this story wasn't about me – her second album of 2026, having formed a new political prog band with her partner – proves the overhaul was worth it.

Co-produced by Styrke with Magnus Larsson and Joel Kiviaho, I thought this story wasn't about me is a concept album that unfolds over the course of a dusk 'til dawn afterparty. Originally inspired by a vision of someone categorically alone but surrounded by people, the album is certainly more introspective than any of her earlier work. Styrke has spoken of David Lynch's influence here, and his fingerprints – along with other cinematic touches – are apparent throughout. The dancefloor hasn't been abandoned altogether, it's merely a part of a wider conversation.

Styrke starts where she left off with opener "Prayer", which has the same sense of exuberance and urgency as the best of HARD, set to a pulsating beat that's easy to picture filling a nightclub floor – but things get looser and more interesting from there. On "Let’s Go Camping", for example, the background beats feel like something from a film, while there are no vocals, simply dialogue and humming.

Styrke has spoken of a wider range of influences on this record – from Big Thief’s Adrianne Lenker to LCD Soundsystem (a more obvious point of reference) – and this wider playing field is one that suits both her growing ambition and the concept at the album’s heart. The beats of "Look at Me" do recall the early '00s electronic and indie scene, while the ethereal vocal delivery is still very much Tove Styrke.

"Afterparty Hymn" is a true delight, with synths straight out of the Vangelis or Brian Eno playbook, paired with Lana Del Rey. It might be short at less than 90 seconds but it perfectly encapsulates the tone of the LP, and pairs well with the minimalism of "Space", which brings Styrke's haunting vocals more to the fore in a track that builds throughout. Later, the propulsive "Big Exit" once again proves that her ability to energise remains very much intact. It might be closer to some of her earlier work, but again it fits the overall tone.

Finding a perfect balance between euphoria and introspection, I thought this story wasn't about me is a triumph; a deeply personal and intimate record that’s not afraid to break loose when the occasion demands. Styrke takes some real risks here and the payoff is deserved.