Tove Lo - Sunshine Kitty

Pitchfork 72

The Swedish pop star’s fourth album contains some of her most vulnerable writing inside her clubbiest record.

The Guardian 60

(Island)
The Swedish star finds some illicit thrills on an edgy, intimate album that doesn’t quite have the courage of its convictions

One song in the middle of Tove Lo’s fourth album sticks out like an F1 car at a karting track: Jacques, made with producer Jax Jones, is sledgehammer chart fare that sits incongruously alongside the otherwise narcotised, tropical mood of Sunshine Kitty. It screams of label desperation for a hit and disturbs an album that largely seems set at 3am on a night out, as the Swedish pop star voices her brazen come-ons, pleas and darkest thoughts in a cigarette-addled rasp.

Largely that voice is front and centre amid striking minimalist production, underscoring Lo’s confrontations and anxieties: “Did you go down on his birthday?” she asks her girlfriend on Glad He’s Gone, before stark acoustic guitar gives way to a warm rush of a chorus. Equally Lost’s hard, bright beat sounds like it was hammered out against a coral reef, and the skittish arpeggiated synths of Are U Gonna Tell Her? amplify the nerviness of a complex emotional situation.