Balancing the pain of ugly truths with the reality that you’ll find a way to move past them is an incredible artistic feat that has as much to do with the song’s merciless onslaught of synths as it does Robyn’s lyrics. Nothing sounds quite like “Dancing on My Own”: Electronic clicking and ticking are layered atop one another at various tempos, ultimately creating the clipped sonic equivalent of a strobe light. An instant confidence boost takes hold as soon as the beat kicks in, even as Robyn falls apart—or perhaps, in part, because of it. We’ve all been there in some way, whether it’s as the jilted ex giving in to Facebook-stalking urges or even in the role of “always the best friend, never the girlfriend.” The ubiquitous presence of “Dancing on My Own” in pop culture over the past four years—in TV shows like “Girls” and on barroom DJs’ playlists—is a real-talk reminder of life’s low points, and the stunning celebration of overcoming them.
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