In the world of Scandinavian electronic music, Stockholm’s Mr. Tophat is swimming upstream. Instead of icy electro-pop or intricate IDM, Tophat offers massive, 10-minute-plus underground disco and house tracks through his Junk Yard Connections and Karlovak labels. These epic re-edits reference everything from Moroder to Larry Levan, passing through ’80s boogie and ’90s rave. His most recent release, titled Trust Me, is his most audacious yet—not only because of its intriguing balance of experimental textures and pure momentum, but because he has recruited superstar compatriot Robyn to provide vocals.
Believe it or not, Robyn's last solo release, Body Talk, came out in 2010 (coincidentally, the same year Mr. Tophat released his first record), which is several decades in pop time. Entire careers have come and gone in the time that fans have awaited a proper follow-up to “Call Your Girlfriend.” It’s a mark of his producer's ear that on Trust Me, Mr. Tophat seems aware of exactly how much Robyn is enough; her unmistakable voice envelops the songs without overcoming them, and Tophat expertly weaves her vocals in and out of the mix like one of many instruments in his arsenal.
Their partnership feels playfully equal, Robyn’s phrasing even improvisational at some points. On the opening title track, when she sings “We can make love/Don’t think twice/You can trust me,” she sounds like a mischievous siren luring a drunken sailor under the waves—even more so when moments later, she erupts in primal yelps and squeals. It’s this versatile exuberance, refusing to take itself too seriously yet the product of quiet perfectionism, that makes Robyn such a compelling pop star.
Even away from the sweaty haze of an actual club, Trust Me keeps your attention. Club music heard in headphones sometimes falls victim to druggy repetition, but these tracks are so layered and dense that new elements keep bobbing to the surface after multiple listens. The 15-minute closer “Disco Dovato” begins with loose percussion, lagging almost behind the beat (courtesy of drummer Per Lindvall, a former member of ABBA and another nod to Swedish pop royalty), until a typical disco guitar riff slowly filters in—but then distorted, looped samples begin slowly encroaching, along with Robyn’s cheeky vocal take. By the time the beat drops and the hi-hats kick in, well past the song’s midpoint, you half-expect the thing to fall apart under its own weight. But it never does. Mr. Tophat has a gift for this kind of balancing act, and on Trust Me, he manages to share the spotlight with one of his country’s famous pop stars.
