Many dismissed Carly Rae Jepsen as a one-hit wonder after her 2012 summer smash “Call Me Maybe,” but she continues to release quality material. Jepsen performs at the Showbox on Monday, Feb. 29.

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You’d have to have been living off the grid in the summer of 2012 to have missed Carly Rae Jepsen’s international dance-pop smash “Call Me Maybe,” with its synthesized strings and playful hook: “Hey, I just met you / and this is crazy / but here’s my number / so call me maybe?”

What maybe is a little crazy, or at least surprising, is that the Canadian singer-songwriter — at the Showbox on Monday (Feb. 29) — has become a crossover phenomenon.

Jepsen’s ubiquitous “Maybe” could have been a ticket to one-hit wonderland. (The only other track from her debut to chart, “This Kiss,” topped out at No. 86 on Billboard’s Hot 100.) But her 2015 follow-up “Emotion,” besides producing two more charted singles (“I Really Like You” and “Run Away With Me”) and moving a respectable 100,000 units worldwide, finished third in the Village Voice’s Pazz & Jop critic’s poll, just behind hip-hop’s Kendrick Lamar and indie rock’s Courtney Barnett.

Concert preview

Carly Rae Jepsen

With Cardiknox, Fairground Saints, 7 p.m. Monday, Feb. 29, at the Showbox, 1426 First Ave., Seattle; $25-$30 (206-628-3151 or

In a phone interview, Jepsen explained that her goal with “Emotion” was “to make an ’80s pop album for those who are like-minded, loving the ’80s, loving pop … or have a secret love affair with it.”

Not unlike Haim’s similarly ’80s-styled “Days Are Gone” and Daft Punk’s “Random Access Memories,” “Emotion” rocks the party but doesn’t skimp on songcraft. Unabashedly heartfelt — “I love sincerity!” she says, laughing — and with a welcome lack of modern-day text-slang, the 30-year-old singer’s recent LP reaches beyond “Call Me Maybe” teenyboppers — to their chaperones and indie kids.

Anthemic songs like “Run Away With Me” and “Boy Problems” — both of which rival “Maybe” for catchiness — stand out for their positivity in a time of so much angst and cynicism.

Playing Seattle is a sort of homecoming for Jepsen, who grew up just across the border in Mission, B.C., a suburb of Vancouver. She still uses the same backup band she always has, save for one member — which makes their sustained success feel that much sweeter, she said.

“Back in the day, I’d try to entice them,” she remembered. “Like — ‘I’ll make lasagna if you rehearse with me right now!’ because I didn’t have any money. And they’d do it. I think that’s why, now, performing doesn’t feel like work so much. There’s just an authenticity to every night where you get to really tap into why you love a song. You don’t feel like you have to filter anything.”