At first glance, Lux could seem more like a difficult university examination rather than a new pop project by a musician who just had a last hit was a collaboration with an international pop icon. Broken into 4 distinct parts and performed in 13 languages, this is a head-spinning symphonic work exploring feminine mystery, religious transcendence, and bodily change, often by way of the prism of various female saints. The end of a romance—a topic handled with raw honesty elsewhere—is shot heavenward here, supported by the constant sound of a major symphony orchestra and input from an award-winning composer within a vast list of contributors. Its sheer daring alone renders the efforts of contemporary artists look rather laughable.
Transcending Scholarly Exercise
The fact that Lux manages to avoid overly academic posturing feels nothing short of miraculous, and complete praise going to Rosalía. Although it's not the first time project to alchemize the past and the present, its scale are much higher here, with the tightrope walk more pronounced. What really elevates her fourth release, beyond its multilayered melodies, rich compositions, and inherent drama, proves to be an essential sense of fun. Similar to the legendary Björk at her peak, you find a captivating sense to the vocalist's voice that pulls you into its whirlwind. Even when she is tearing your heart in two, the listener nevertheless want to stay alongside her for the journey.
A Signature Moment of Exuberance
This playful energy shines clearly on the stirring Italian ballad inspired by a saint. It bathes in a sorrowful melancholy over several minutes. Then, all the music falls away, to reveal there's a gleeful giggle and a declaration before a comically exaggerated orchestral surge crashes in with cartoonish force. The song then shifts to the wild track driven by galloping orchestration, an imposing choral group, and a cameo appearance from none other than herself.
"The charm with Lux lies in you never quite know—nor wish to predict—what you is going next."
Almost every song finishes in a completely distinct place than where it started. One moment explores the transient nature of fame with a featherlight symphony only to disintegrating in digital cacophony. Another, a song echoing her previous rhythmic work begins out dark and sinister, with prowling vocals, before sudden flamenco rhythms and an angelic chorus arrive to soften its jagged corners.
The Bridge Between Art and Accessibility
Another crucial balancing act on Lux involves straddling the line between radical experimentation and mainstream accessibility. This is no coincidence that the album has achieved her highest-charting release to break into the Top 5 of major markets: at its core a suite of utterly catchy hits. A song sung primarily in the English language builds on a chorus that seems to gather increasingly nagging melodies as it spirals skyward. This trick gets echoed by another powerful ballad that expands and constricts, intertwining multiple tunes as a complex tapestry.
- A dance-infused song seduces with its playful, Disney-adjacent drama and a chant-along chorus.
- Lyrically, it shares with pop culture impact of other breakup anthems, lambasting a former partner described as an "emotional terrorist".
- Across the album, the vocals have a sharp smile, like a storybook character concealing a blade: "Gold medal in acting like a scoundrel / You've the podium of letdown."
A Maximalist Feast for the Ears
This album is popular music on a grand scale, a hungry reach for capital-A Art in an era of looming artificial blankness. It eschews solipsism for glorious elevation, crafting an over-the-top drama that skillfully manages its own built-in excess. This is an abundant well of buried gems that takes time to completely explore but doesn't seem like a chore. While other big releases of the year felt like a meager meal, this record is a sumptuous banquet where the guests around the table, some intoxicated on sacred drink, flutter between discussions about ancient saints, the galvanizing feeling of heartbreaking sadness, and common stories about hopeless men. In essence, it's a contemporary musical from music's most endlessly inventive practitioner.
