Lykke li confronts past fears as she prepares for coachella debut

Los Angeles—Swedish singer-songwriter Lykke Li is facing her demons head-on as she prepares to unleash The Afterparty on the world, a stark departure from her previous work and a bold step into uncharted sonic territory.

A brutalist approach to sound and self

A brutalist approach to sound and self

Ahead of her coachella performance this evening, Li confessed to a surprising apprehension, describing the prospect as akin to “wrestling my way through a brutalist boxing ring.” She’s abandoning the plaintive melodies that defined her earlier albums, opting for a maximalist soundscape—a 17-piece string section, a veritable army of drummers and vocalists—reflecting a deliberate rebellion against the intimacy of her bedroom recordings. This shift, she explains, is fueled by a desire to confront the insecurities that have plagued her throughout her career.

“When I was 19 or 20, I always had to prove myself or win someone over,” Li recounted, recalling the early days of her rise to indie stardom with Youth Novels and the subsequent success of “I Follow Rivers.” That lingering insecurity, she’s determined to overcome with a fighter’s resolve. “I’m going into it like a brutalist boxing ring,” she stated, emphasizing the deliberate lack of expectation surrounding the performance. “I can’t count on there being any fans or any love there. So I have to just wrestle my way through this set.”

The Afterparty, released May 8th, marks a distinct creative turning point. Lyrically, the album explores themes of existentialism and a newfound hopefulness—a significant contrast to the introspective darkness of her 2022 release, EYEYE. Tracks like “Lucky Again” showcase a willingness to embrace love, albeit with a more mature perspective, a welcome change from her past pursuit of romantic salvation. “Baby hold on tight / ’Til the bitter end / If we’re lucky / We’ll get lucky again,” she sings, a poignant reflection on the cyclical nature of experience.

The album’s production reflects this evolution as well. Moving away from the raw, intimate feel of her previous work—recorded in her LA bedroom—The Afterparty was crafted in Sweden, incorporating orchestral arrangements influenced by her experiences performing with the Swedish Radio Symphonics during her pregnancy. “I wanted to make something super maximalist, over the top, and use every instrument I’ve ever been curious about,” Li explained, revealing a desire to fully explore her musical palette. “I was rebelling against [the last] album.”

Beyond the sonic shift, Li’s journey reflects a profound personal transformation. Motherhood, she admits, initially presented a significant challenge to her artistic process. “I read this book, The Baby on the Fire Escape, which is about Doris Lessing, Alice Neel, Louise Bourgeois, and all these female artists,” she shared. Shifting between motherhood and creating art had felt like adopting entirely different personas. “The alter ego that I created for myself when I was working was this kind of masculine, hedonistic fuck boy,” Li revealed, highlighting the stark contrast between her two realities. The division was so pronounced that listening to The Afterparty now feels almost hallucinatory—a testament to the profound impact of motherhood on her creative mind.

“Who I am as a mother has nothing to do with who I am on stage,” she emphatically states, a clear delineation between her two identities. While hinting at a potential shift in her artistic trajectory—suggesting this incarnation of herself may be concluding—Lykke Li remains committed to the power of music, acknowledging that her path forward may take unexpected forms. Ultimately, she concludes, “It’s almost like it came from this hallucinatory state, which motherhood does to you.”