Stockholm, July 2026
Most of us have an artist whose music maps the different stages of our lives. LYKKE LI has always been that artist for me. I vividly remember seeing her at my very first festival, where the euphoric performance of I Follow Rivers became the highlight of one of those unforgettable formative moments. A few years later, I Never Learn and its heartbreaking title track arrived just as I was becoming an adult. Then came so sad so sexy, a baddie album of sorts, which scored my early years of living in London (which were very much like the title describes).
Now, Li has once again found her way into our lives – and to the top of our Spotify On Repeat playlists – with her latest record, The Afterparty. Long regarded as the high priestess of sadness and one of pop's most singular voices, Li has built a career out of transforming heartbreak into cathartic poetry, balancing stark vulnerability with melodies that shimmer in defiance of the darkness beneath. Her latest LP continues that tradition while further expanding its emotional scope. Beneath its luminous production lies an album preoccupied not just with love, but with mortality, purpose, parenthood, and the restless search for meaning that follows the chaos of youth.
On a brief break from touring, Li spoke to us about the existential questions that fuel her songwriting, the sacrifices of performing, her Isabelle Huppert obsession, and why she feels increasingly drawn to creating from the shadows rather than standing in the spotlight. It's a conversation about contradictions – the precise quality that has always made her music so enduring.
First of all, I'm so happy to get to talk to you. I've been following your career for about 15 years, and this new album has been really meaningful to me. Which song came first, and how did it shape the record as a whole?
The first was Not Gon Cry. Then came Famous Last Words. After that, it all kind of unravelled from there.
What emotions did you want to explore with this record? On the surface, this feels like a much happier album, at least musically. And, by the way, Happy Now is my favourite song – it's been my number one on Spotify.
Oh, sweet. I wouldn't really call it a happy album. It's my existential album. I feel like the lyrics are dealing with desperation and hopelessness, but maybe the music – the instrumentation – is happier or more energetic.
That's an interesting dichotomy. Why do you think you're drawn to that contrast?
I always work like that. I'm a Pisces, so I'm always swimming in two different directions at the same time. I feel like that's life. There's black and white, and everything in between.
I wanted to ask about Max Richter’s recomposition of Vivaldi on Lucky Again. It was the first time you've used a sample. What feelings does that composition evoke in you, and how did it tie into the song?
When I hear it, my chest kind of explodes with happiness and grief at the same time. I thought, “If I ever get married, I'd want to walk down the aisle to this.” Then I also realised, “Actually, it would be equally beautiful at my funeral.” It kind of encompasses the whole circle of life.
Do you have a favourite example of another artist sampling your music?
I love when Drake does it.
What do you enjoy about the way he approaches your music and makes it his own?
I just find those worlds colliding really interesting. And I love hip-hop so much.
Which part of this album felt the most experimental to you? Was there something you weren't entirely sure would work?
Future Fear. Putting it in the middle, as the climax of the whole album… But I really love that part now.
You're currently on tour, and you've had the chance to perform these songs live. Which one feels the most cathartic to play in front of the crowd? And which songs seem to resonate most deeply with the audience?
I love performing Sick Of Love.
I’m obsessed with that clip of you at Coachella dancing to The Rhythm of the Night with a cigarette in your mouth. You often describe yourself as an introvert, so again, it's an interesting contrast. Do you think being an introverted person enriches the way people perceive you as an artist?
I don't ever think about my public persona. But I think, as a writer, you need to spend a lot of time alone in your head. That's where I get all my ideas.
Have any of your older songs taken on new relevance while performing them on this tour?
Whenever I play I Follow Rivers, that's obviously the highlight of the show. But it's also been really sweet to play Possibility. It's such a slow song, but that moment in the show has been really beautiful.
That's a deep cut! In another interview, you said that if you're an artist, you never really feel comfortable. Where does that discomfort come from in your daily reality?
I'm always scratching at the surface. I'm always wondering what the meaning of life is. Every day is pretty uncomfortable.
You also spoke of wanting to move more behind the scenes – focusing on songwriting and perhaps becoming less of the visual focal point. Someone like Björk has constantly reinvented that relationship between the artist and the public. Is that something you think about?
Yeah. I'm obsessed with songwriting, and I want to keep writing songs. But I'm less interested in being the front face of it. I find that world really toxic.
I think artists who reveal very little about themselves beyond their work often become even more fascinating. Who are those artists for you?
The person I'm probably most fascinated by is Isabelle Huppert. I'm obsessed with her.
Me too! The Piano Teacher is one of your all-time favourite films, right? What is it about her as an actress that fascinates you?
I just think that performance, and the story itself, are so brutal and dark and ravishing. And it's really interesting to know that Huppert has three kids, then goes to work, and those are the kinds of roles she plays.
Have you ever wanted to score a feature film?
Yes, I feel like that's something I'd really want to do in the future.
Are there any filmmakers you think you'd be a good match with?
I'd be curious to do something built on juxtaposition. A film in a similar tone to The Seed of the Sacred Fig, perhaps. Something that's not Western – I think that would really interest me.
I also learned that you recently read and loved Liza Minnelli's memoir, which I'm reading at the moment. Which parts of her story resonated with you the most?
Her arriving in New York and clawing her way into the performing arts. The hustle. The dedication. The craft. I found that really interesting.
It’s fascinating to learn about all the people who believed in her and helped shape her. Who were those people for you?
Björn Yttling, for sure. Tarik Saleh, who directed the I Follow Rivers video – he showed me so many films. When I was growing up, I was also really into dancing, and I had dance mentors too. It's really important to find those people. Even now, my collaborator Theo Lindquist and I are always talking about art and how to make something meaningful.
How do you feel about touring at this point in your career? Do you still experience the same adrenaline you did ten years ago, and have you found ways to make it work for you?
Touring is something I really struggle with. It's really difficult, especially when you have kids, and you have to leave them behind. The shows are always beautiful, but it's hard to make sense of the fact that there's only one hour of the day that's truly fulfilling. The rest is really hard. And then, I get such an adrenaline rush that I can't fall asleep afterwards. I really struggle with insomnia on tour. It is a real sacrifice – on my family, on my health – to be able to do that show.
You've always been very conceptual in your visual language, and this time I've noticed you've been wearing hoodies a lot on stage. Does the hoodie symbolise anything for you? Does it feel protective?
Yeah. I feel like I always need to have something on my head. A hoodie, a scarf – something. I need to feel protected. I also feel like there's something spiritual that I'm going through. It's interesting how so many religions involve covering the head. I'm still trying to understand why I feel the need to do that. I feel very naked without it.
That's interesting, because when something becomes part of the way you present yourself, it usually carries some kind of meaning – even if you haven't fully figured out what it is yet.
I feel like I'm in a transition phase. I also find the publicness of being an artist difficult, so I always want to hide.
So it’s the ultimate comfort garment.
Well... It's a leather hoodie, so it's actually not comfortable at all. I've been playing in heatwaves.
That's the opposite of comfort – the ultimate sacrifice [Laughs] One last question. You recently described The Afterparty as a record evoking the after party of your messy youth. How has that chapter of your life shaped what you're searching for today?
I'm always searching. What's the next step? What's the next vision? What's the next life? When you're in your early twenties, there's so much mystery ahead of you. Who are you going to fall in love with? Are you going to have children? Who are they going to be? What are you going to do with your life? Now it's a completely different chapter. You're searching less for what's going to happen and more for the meaning behind it all.
Interview by Martin Onufrowicz
Photography by Nick Offord
Hair by Ali Pirzadeh
Make-Up by Lauren Reynolds
Special thanks to Nordic Poetry