Lykke Li Might Be “Sick of Love,” But Never Sick of Writing About Its Torment

As if reminding the masses that she’s the best to ever do it when it comes to tragedian love songs, Lykke Li has offered up yet another single from The Afterparty (marking a total of three after “Lucky Again” and “Knife in the Heart”). Which means she’s already unveiled one-third of the album’s music, in a maneuver that smacks of what Robyn did with Sexistential (which also has nine tracks). But when the music is this good, who can blame her? And, this time around, the song is called “Sick of Love,” which of course already says it all.

Although Li has previously stated that she was, in fact, sick of love—or at least writing about it for her songs (especially after Eyeye)—sometimes old habits die hard. Besides, how could she resist using the affecting beat (co-produced by herself and David Andrew Sitek) to get into the weeds of unrequited love? A theme that the listener immediately gleans from the opening verse, “Oh, what the hell?/Fell from heaven/Oh, my god/I can’t even/See her with her long hair/Television pretty/I know you got the wrong girl/When you left without me.” Cutting to the core of so many women’s insecurities when it comes to heteronormative, monogamous relationships, Li addresses the feeling of inadequacy that this other, “prettier” woman brings out in her. All because the object of her affection is “choosing” this woman over her, which Li can’t help but assume has everything to do with somehow not being aesthetically “enough” compared to the proverbial “hot bitch” (who is perceived as automatically being a bitch precisely because she is hot).

This point is also reiterated later in the song when she asks, in the style of the Evil Queen (a.k.a. Grimhilde), “Mirror, mirror, tell me/Am I not as pretty?” Because it’s difficult for a woman not to see another “competitor” as causing her “lack” when said other woman is the one who gets the bloke instead. Worse still, when she “poaches” that bloke from a woman, such as Li, who already “has” him. Then again, it’s not totally clear in “Sick of Love” if Li genuinely was already with this person, or merely hoping to be when she spotted him at the same party. Hence the lines, “It’s looking so lonely/Oh, hey, where did the party go?” (and yes, it’s a metaphorical question as well). At the same time, Li indicates she was with this person via the lyrics, “Oh, hey boy, listen/You’re gonna need me back, you’re gonna want me back [this implying they were together in the first place]/You’re gonna beg for it, I’ll make you beg for it.” To which Charli XCX would reply, “Don’t make me beg for you/‘Cause I’ll beg for you.”

Alas, by the time this man realizes the error of his was (for “pretty girls” always drop boyfriends like hot potatoes—or so the legend goes), Li will no longer be waiting, forewarning, “When you’re sick of her/I’ll be sick of love.” In other words, if he really does come crawling back, she’ll have spent all of her energy on pining and being depressed to the point where she no longer has any left to feel “warmth” or “happiness” about this guy suddenly looking at her like she’s all shiny and new again now that his “first choice” is no longer available.

Throughout the song, Li maintains a tone of pure earnestness—one that conveys her longing and insistence that he’ll regret his decision. She even gives off some “sad girl on the dance floor” a.k.a. Robyn energy yet again (not just in serving up a nine-track album and releasing a lot of the songs on it beforehand) when she describes, “The saddest disco/All my tears/Are on this dance floor.”

In the accompanying visual (not to be confused with an actual music video) that goes with “Sick of Love,” however, there is no dance floor, just the same loop of a woman inside a subway station moving in reverse. Her reverse state, thus, making her look as if she is “deboarding” the U2 line at the Ruhleben station in Berlin (after all, Li is a Euro girl through and through, which is why Berlin makes far more sense than, say, NYC as a backdrop). But it is also, in being “rewound” that the woman’s movements—all erratic writhing on the floor—look especially unsettling. Perhaps even more than a man being pelted with trash as he fights a friction-filled battle against the wind (as is the case with the visual that accompanies “Knife in the Heart”). For it’s as if she’s been possessed by something demonic. In this instance, that so-called demonic force is the “I can’t be held accountable for my actions” behavior (usually of the drunk variety) that comes with experiencing unrequited love.

A feeling that leads people to do and say crazy things in order to stave off the sting of that kind of rejection. And the pain of knowing that the one you love doesn’t love you back—not in “that way.” And so, as usual, Li proves herself to be the most effective and affecting spokesperson for this phenomenon, really going for the emotional jugular with her outro, “Turn the lights off, light a cigarette/See how far you get/Play a slow song for the old clown/Buy you another round.” And yet, Li can’t help but add a note of hope to the “woman in torment” loop by captioning the visual with, “There’s always another train baby. Get back up keep on dancing!” And “Sick of Love” might make it easier for some people to do just that.