Wounded Rhymes

Three years is a long time in the life of a twentynothing Swedish vixen, but crucially in an era when pop music can be dated almost to the month, Lykke Li’s first album Youth Novels has aged well. Li’s made no secret of the fact that she was feeling every bit as heartbroken writing second LP Wounded Rhymes as she was writing her debut, albeit this time around, she’s got just a few more lines to her rock résumé.
Thankfully, the 24-year-old hasn’t let Drake samples, Twilight soundtracks or Kanye collaborations go to her pretty little head. Björn Yttling (minus Peter and John) returns as producer and tune for tune, she’s kept to the Lykke Li blueprint of lo-fi beats, killer percussion and fetching hooks. The difference? This time there’s fire under her heels.
Where once she was bashful and cooing, now she’s ferocious and authoritative, pawing and scraping at the beats like a woman possessed. Bounding melodies, warlike throbs, and unearthly howls are clunked masterfully together; frankly, we didn’t think she had in her.
Pulsating opener ‘Youth Knows No Pain’ joins singles ‘I Follow Rivers’ and ‘Get Some’ for the ass-kicking portion of the record, each one deliciously belligerent and insolently primal.
Elsewhere, doleful ballads are souped up with hand claps and sultry, woozy vocals. Lyrics are haunting and forlorn, but clever all the same, like when she achingly repeats “Oh, my love is unrequited,” or playfully croons “Sadness is my boyfriend/ Oh Sadness, I’m your girl.” Choral closer ‘Silent My Song’ is practically a hymn.
Excusing the less-than-sweet lyrics, ‘Sadness Is A Blessing’ could be a Shirelles cover, while ‘Unrequited Love’ is pumped full of actual shoo-wops. The psychedelic ‘60s are revived on some of the gutsier tracks too (there’s even a tune with a boy’s name as the title!), but it rarely feels throwback or retro.
Instead of bunching the intimate with the hostile, she’s allowed the rhymes to run riot, so that we’re kind of bucked about from emotion to emotion. This probably has something to do with representing the tumultuous nature of the heartbreak we talked about earlier, but really, it just makes for very interesting listening. This a moodier, more ferocious, more grown-up Ms. Zachrisson, but it’s still textbook Lykke Li.
Youth Novels was an altogether cuter affair (she’d hate to hear me say it, mind), but Wounded Rhymes has real depth. Lykke Li isn’t so much licking her wounds, as she is parading around in them for all to see.