Body Talk 1 is a strange album: despite it being total shit people seem to love it. Has ironic interest gone so far that irony can no longer truly exist? Has kitsch and retro ’90s boredom really become the most interesting genre on the planet? Pop music should be thrilling and joyful and exuberant and in the grand scheme of truly great pop albums (even truly ok albums) does Robyn deserve the love she’s been getting? No. Honestly, no. The only thing remarkable about this album is how spectacularly unremarkable this album is.