Pitchfork

If American political eminences need a model for a successful invasion, they should look to Swedish musicians. Stockholm's Shout Out Louds made their U.S. debut two years ago, on the heels of garage-rockers the Hives and Mando Diao, retro-pop groups like the Concretes, and a bunch of immediately regrettable Ikea jokes. Since then, Swedish pop's stateside profile has continued to escalate. Many listeners who never heard Shout Out Louds' major-label full-length have probably seen their video work; bassist Ted Malmros directed the animated clip for Peter Björn & John's "Young Folks".

That trio's Björn Yttling produces Shout Out Louds' sophomore album (and Merge debut) Our Ill Wills, after sharing the controls for the quintet's 2005 Capitol LP Howl Howl Gaff Gaff. Yttling's undivided attention occasions plinking piano played by the man himself, more acoustic guitars, and the expansive percussion sound familiar from his own band's Writer's Block and his recent production for Victoria Bergsman's Taken By Trees. Brisk strums and lead singer Adam Olenius' Robert Smith-like anguish mean the Cure's most streamlined pop album, 1985's The Head on the Door, is still as apt a reference point as it was for Shout Out Louds' prior album, though sharper hooks and emotionally richer songwriting ensure Our Ill Wills improves upon its predecessor.

Yttling's cinematic production wouldn't be enough without a set of strong tunes. Where Writer's Block's high points came from the new-love dizziness of "Objects of My Affection", "Paris 2004", or, yes, "Young Folks", Our Ill Wills shakes with the pain of loves lost and unrequited. For all the bright synth-strings and acoustic guitar of excellent first single "Tonight I Have to Leave It", what matters most is the feeling Olenius is leaving behind: "I just want to be bothered with real love," he sighs. The album's second single, seven-minute "Impossible", finds Olenius wanting what he can't have, and not wanting nearly everything else. No amount of cheery woodblock percussion can mitigate that gnawing paradox. It's surely with some bitter irony that he imagines the now-unattainable object of his affection finding true love of her own: "I know it could happen to you," he concludes.

Olenius' sobbing vocals might grate if he spent the entire album whining about girls, so it's satisfying when the album explores other themes: a tragic accident on "Time Left for Love", tricks of memory on "Your Parents Livingroom", or calls to the police and vague worries about "when she will get her child" on "You Are Dreaming", with its indelible "don't come back to Stockholm" chorus. Travel is a means of escape for Olenius, too, on "Normandie" (also note the album cover's maritime-signal theme).

Even when Shout Out Louds sing about something else, for them-- as for most pop groups, including PB&J-- love is a constant subtext. On "Normandie", Olenius can't escape his old flame's memory. Over tropical acoustic guitars on "South America", he gets stupidly jealous at the sudden thought she might fall for someone else "in the bright nightclub light"; it's an embarrassingly realistic male moment. Multi-instrumentalist Bebban Stenborg takes the lead for a female perspective on despair-drenched "Blue Headlights", her breathy vocals not undeserving of the inevitable comparisons to Bergsman (whose part she sang in PB&J's Coachella performance of "Young Folks").

If the songs can't all hold up to those of inspirations like the Cure or the Smiths-- "Meat Is Murder" is an acoustic lament, not a cover-- well, few can. "I haven't said too much, have I?/ There are things you should keep to yourself," Olenius frets, on a guitar-pop album full of what can sound like another person's aching secrets: a fellow traveler's pursuit of what might almost seem impossible, until it happens to you. On the strength of Our Ill Wills, Sweden looks poised to win a few more hearts, minds, and sensitive souls.