In indie music’s continually and rapidly evolving relationship with dance and pop music, artists who would have been ignored ten years ago are embraced by hipsters. While, of course, plenty (Katy Perry) are still ignored, those who make the leap to indie popularity have done it on the basis of over-the-top theatricality (Lady Gaga), strange idiosyncrasies (R. Kelly) and pure, bad-ass virtuosity (Beyoncé). Robyn is one of the fore-bearers to this phenomenon, but she doesn’t fit neatly into any of those boxes. After a decade of European pop stardom, Robyn has made in-roads onto the iPods of indie music America (where her fan base is more likely to be listening to Washed Out than Black Eyed Peas) by combining pretty, danceable pop songs with a vulnerability that feels refreshing and disarming for a pop star. Robyn’s new album, Body Talk, continues this trend and may be her best to date.

Two songs, ‘Dancing on My Own’ and ‘Cry When You Get Older’, form the emotional heart of the album and, as the third and fourth tracks, pack an incredible one-two punch. Lead single ‘Dancing on My Own’ is both a great dance song and a movingly realistic portrayal of jealousy (something Robyn does well; see ‘Be Mine!’ from 2005′s Robyn), in which Robyn absolutely nails the feelings of indignant anger and desperation of being left by a lover. The anger comes in the verses, where Robyn seethes over an unrelenting stuttering synth line and the desperation comes in the choruses, where she opens up and, singing in a higher register, wonders “why can’t you see me”. If ‘Dancing on My Own’ is the perfect encapsulation of Robyn’s humanizing take on pop, ‘Cry When You Get Older’ is a sort of philosophical explication of that worldview over bright and pleasantly distorted synths. In words of advice to teenagers, Robyn sings, “Love hurts when you do it right” and that kind of good-with-the-bad approach to love goes a long way to explaining why she sounds so much more real than other pop stars.

Nothing the rest of the way quite lives up to those two songs, but it all feels fresh and original, especially coming at this point in Robyn’s nearly twenty year career. ‘Hang with Me’, a ballad that invites a boy to be friends while warning him that if he falls in love with her it will only lead to his heartbreak, sounds wonderfully intimate and grand at the same time. The song in its verses is simply Robyn’s voice and a spare piano accompaniment before it builds to a huge chorus that swoons with strings. ‘Jag Vet En Dejlig Rosa’ sounds like a lullaby sung in Swedish and, on ‘None of Dem’ (a collaboration with Royksopp), ‘Fembot,’ the dub-tinged ‘Dancehall Queen’ and ‘Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do,’ Robyn continues to be as adventurous, original and personal as anyone working in pop music today. Body Talk pairs those winning qualities with an album’s worth of pretty melodies. In this singles-dominated era more than ever, that makes it an album worth owning.