LYKKE LI'S 'I NEVER LEARN'
As the title of her latest album I Never Learn suggests, heartbreak is not a new theme for Swedish singer Lykke Li. But her latest approach to the oft-sung-about human condition borders on obsession: her vocals ache with emotion on each of the nine pared-down tracks on the album.
Lykke Li’s first album Youth Novels, from 2008, was characterized by restrained vocals and subject matter (as in the quirky, breathy “Little Bit”: “I think I’m a little bit…in love with you…but only if you’re a little bit in love with me”). On her second album, Wounded Rhymes, she began to tackle topics of longing and heartbreak on tracks like “Sadness Is a Blessing” and “Unrequited Love,” but pretty harmonies and swingy melodies still dominated the mood.
This time, even the catchiest ballads on I Never Learn—apparently, ballads can be catchy too—show that Lykke Li, now twenty-eight, has taken this theme to a whole new level, and is not afraid to bare it all. While the singer collaborated with Bjorn Yttling again for this album (as well as Greg Kurstin), this record marks her first attempt at production, and perhaps the stripped down, vocal-focused sound was her personal preference. The pure, simple guitar chords and pretty piano riffs allow her haunting, emotion-laden vocals to shine.
From the first almost-recognizable guitar chords of the title track to the resigned-to-lonely-nights-yet-borderline-hopeful closer “Sleeping Alone,” Lykke Li coaxes the listener into a dreamlike state and keeps her there. Her signature dreamy sound—eerie instrumental echoes; enchanting, layered harmonies; lullaby guitar chords; and repeated delicate piano high notes—is only enhanced by her newfound honest, raw voice. While the album is undeniably stripped-down compared to her earlier work, Lykke Li still manages to achieve a haunting, nostalgic sound throughout, with a stable base of percussion and a consistent swaying melody as the perfect backdrop for her wistful vocals.
Across the cohesive album, Lykke Li takes the listener on a journey through the ever-so-slight peaks and valleys of her heartbreak. She eases us in with the breezy opening chords of “I Never Learn,” then takes us deeper into her solitude in “No Rest for the Wicked”: sweet piano notes and a catchy chorus offset the Florence-esque crooning and despair-filled lyrics—“Lonely, I’m so lonely now…There’s no hope for the weary.” The anthem-like “Just Like a Dream” follows, where the glimpse of hope we might see in the lyrics and pleasant hook is only a fantasy. Morning will come eventually and with it, the return of despair. “Silver Line” echoes this sentiment (in case we had any doubts): “Don’t wake the dreamer,” she warns.
“Love Me Like I’m Not Made of Stone” offers up the achiest, rawest moment on the album, in which Lykke Li begs someone to love her “even though it hurts, even though it scars.” In this pure, ageless ballad, her vulnerability is palpable: without bright piano chords or a deep bass to hide behind, her heartbreak is audible. By the time this unexpectedly bare track comes to an end, we’re completely shattered.
The album comes to a close with another throbbing, intense ballad, “Sleeping Alone.” By now, we’ve grown used to Lykke Li’s heartbroken world, but she still wonders if she’ll “get used to sleeping alone.” Though the haunting echoes and feeling-soaked, lingering words hold us in our choked-up state, she leaves us with a faraway sense of hope: “Someday, somehow/Somewhere down the line/If you save your heart for mine/We’ll meet again, we’ll meet again,” she promises.
I Never Learn is out now from LL.
Emma Greenberg is a freelance culture writer based in New York. She graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with a degree in English and creative writing.