*God, this one was hard work. I interviewed Lykke Li in the bar of a Leeson Street hotel. She’d just arrived in from London, was hungover, monosyllabic, complaining about how some bloke had kept trying to touch her hair the night before, and was generally monstrously grumpy. Just as well that her album (and live show) was brilliant. Her second record is due “soon”, apparently.
Originally published in Hot Press, July 2008
LI LYKKE Zachrisson – that’s Lykke Li to you and I, if you please – wearily removes her oversized sunglasses, shakes my hand with a thin smile and politely orders a cappuccino from the waitress. If I didn’t know any better, I’d wonder if I’d somehow manage to somehow inadvertently offend the 22-year-old Swedish popstrel – but it soon becomes clear that Ms. Zachrisson, fresh off a delayed flight from a flurry of UK dates, is just tired. Very tired.
THE WORLD WON'T LISTEN 
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