Swedish songstress impresses

The successor to 2008’s critically lauded “Youth Novels,” Lykke Li’s “Wounded Rhymes” thrusts itself at listeners with unabashed uniqueness, refusing to bend to convention while comfortably numbing them with universal tales of heartache, self-imposed solipsism and primal, animalistic sexual yearning. And that’s just the first few tracks.

Sweden’s most significant export since the Saab 9-3 expertly blends atmospheric instrumentation, lurid drum machines and a girlish timbre yearning to dupe listeners into believing she’s that naïve to deliver her most consistent artistic statement to date.

“Get Some” pounds away as the album’s most marketable attraction, a fiendish romp of tribal drums, Go-Go guitars and sexual blatancy, while “Sadness Is A Blessing” chugs along like some nostalgic treasure excavated by Phil Spector from Alice’s looking glass.

“I can’t tell if I’m living, or just holding on,” croons Li on the majestic closer “Silent My Song,” managing to translate that unshakable, nameless emotion routinely experienced by an entire generation into something coherent. In channeling that daunting sentiment through her music, Li somehow makes it all feel just fine.