Initially, this album may look more like a challenging academic challenge rather than the latest popular music project from an artist whose last single was a collaboration with a global pop star. Split into 4 different parts and sung in 13 tongues, it is a breathtaking classical-tinged work investigating feminine mystery, spiritual ascent, and bodily change, frequently through the prism of various saintly figures. The dissolution of a relationship—a theme treated with raw honesty elsewhere—soars upwards here, carried by the constant sound of a full orchestra and work from a Pulitzer-winning songwriter among a long list of collaborators. Its sheer audacity alone renders the efforts of other pop stars appear quite modest.
The fact that this album manages to avoid overly intellectual chin-stroking feels nothing short of miraculous, and sole praise belonging to Rosalía. Although it's not the first time album to blend historical sounds and the present, its stakes feel far higher on Lux, and the balancing act more pronounced. The element that truly raises this fourth release, beyond its multilayered melodies, dense compositions, and engrained drama, proves to be a core spirit of playfulness. Similar to the legendary artist during her peak, there is a wondrous sense to the vocalist's voice which sweeps the listener up in its tornado. When she's breaking your heart in two, you still want to stay right there for the journey.
This playful spirit shines clearly during a stunning Italian song inspired by Saint Clare. It luxuriates in a string-drenched whirlpool for several minutes. Suddenly, all the music falls silent, to reveal we hear a gleeful laugh followed by a comment before a comically over-the-top orchestral crescendo crashes down with cartoonish force. The song then shifts into the frenetic track featuring racing orchestration, an imposing choir, and a surprise appearance from the artist herself.
"The magic of this album is that the listener rarely quite understand—or even want to predict—what it is going next."
Almost every song concludes in a totally distinct place than where it began. One moment explores the fleeting nature of celebrity with a delicate symphony before disintegrating into digital cacophony. Another, a cut echoing her earlier rhythmic style starts out moody and brooding, featuring menacing beats, before sudden flamenco handclaps and a heavenly chorus enter to soften its rough edges.
A key balancing act of Lux involves straddling the gap between bold innovation and mainstream accessibility. This is little surprise that the album has achieved the artist's first work to crack the upper reaches of key charts: its heart contains a suite of utterly undeniable hits. One track performed primarily in English swells around a refrain that seems to gather more and more infectious melodies as it spins upward. This trick gets repeated on a different powerful track that expands and constricts, weaving layered tunes as a complex weave.
Lux represents pop on a maximalist level, an ambitious grasp for capital-A artistry amid of impending artificial sameness. It rejects self-absorption in favor of sublime transcendence, crafting an over-the-top spectacle that skillfully manages its own built-in excess. It is an abundant well of hidden treasure that takes patience to fully mine but never feels like hard work. Where other big releases of the year felt like a meager meal, this record is a lavish banquet at which the characters at it, perhaps tipsy on holy drink, flutter between conversations about historical figures, the galvanizing sensation of soul-shattering sadness, and shared gossip about hopeless partners. It is a modern-day theatrical production from music's most endlessly inventive visionary.
Maya Chen is a seasoned tech journalist and software developer with over a decade of experience in digital innovation and cybersecurity.
