Who would have thought that when James Murphy packed up LCD, Robyn would be the one to snatch up the ironic spoken word slacker crown? Well- snatch at the crown anyway- this was never going to be a new Losing My Edge, but its a good enough pop reimagining. Over a twitching electro funk serpent the Robster deadpans all the things that are Killing me from her manager, to drinking, smoking, her mum, her phone, TV, you know the drill, before finally dropping down into the eponymous sweary coda. Its not quite as cool as it wants to be, but still an enjoyable balance of todays knowing electronic pop and the cold euro sex of early noughties electroclash.

Ian Mcquaid