On the surface, Lux might appear more like a difficult scholarly quiz rather than the latest popular music album by a musician whose previous single was a collaboration with a global K-pop icon. Broken across 4 separate parts and performed in 13 tongues, we have a dizzying orchestral-influenced opus that delves into feminine mystique, religious transcendence, and physical change, frequently by way of the perspective of various female saints. The end of a relationship—a theme handled with grounded openness elsewhere—is launched skyward here, carried by the constant presence of a major symphony orchestra and contributions from a Pulitzer-winning songwriter within a vast roll call of collaborators. Its sheer daring alone renders the efforts of other artists seem quite laughable.
Transcending Academic Exercise
That Lux manages to escape overly intellectual posturing is nearly miraculous, and sole credit going to the artist. While this is not the first time project to alchemize historical sounds with modern styles, its ambitions are far higher here, and the balancing act far more precarious. What truly elevates her fourth album, outside of its complex tunes, rich compositions, and inherent drama, proves to be a core spirit of fun. Similar to the iconic Björk during her peak, you find a wondrous sense to Rosalía's singing that pulls the listener into its whirlwind. Even when she is tearing your heart apart, the listener nevertheless want to be alongside her through the journey.
A Prime Moment of Exuberance
This playful spirit comes forth brightly on the stunning Italian song about a saint. It bathes in a sorrowful whirlpool for several minutes. Then, everything falls away, and we hear a gleeful giggle and a declaration before a comically exaggerated orchestral crescendo crashes in with comedic force. The song then shifts into the frenetic single driven by galloping strings, a powerful choir, and a cameo role from the artist Björk.
"The charm of this album is that you never quite know—nor want to know—what it will go next."
Almost every song ends at a completely distinct point than how it started. One moment explores the transient trappings of fame with a delicate orchestration before disintegrating in electronic cacophony. Elsewhere, a cut echoing the artist's previous rhythmic style starts out dark and sinister, featuring menacing beats, before sudden traditional rhythms and an angelic chorus arrive to soften the song's rough edges.
The Balance Of Art & Accessibility
A key balancing act on Lux is navigating the gap between bold experimentation and broad appeal. It is little surprise that it has achieved the artist's first work to break into the upper reaches of key markets: its heart contains a suite of truly undeniable pop songs. A song performed primarily in English builds on a chorus that feels to collect more and more nagging hooks as it spins skyward. That feat gets repeated on a different powerful track that expands and constricts, weaving multiple tunes like an intricate tapestry.
- A waltz-like number seduces via its playful, theatrical flair and a chant-along chorus.
- Lyrically, it shares the cultural honesty of contemporary heartbreak anthems, eviscerating a former lover described as an "emotional terrorist".
- Throughout these tracks, the singing have a painted-on smile, akin to a fairy-tale figure concealing a knife: "Gold medal in being a scoundrel / You've won the trophy of disappointment."
An Opulent Banquet for the Ears
This album represents pop on a grand scale, a hungry reach for capital-A Art amid of looming AI-generated blankness. It eschews self-absorption for sublime elevation, crafting an over-the-top spectacle that masterfully controls its built-in ridiculousness. This is an abundant source of buried gems that takes patience to fully explore but never feels like a chore. Where other major pop albums of the year seemed like feasting on meal, Lux offers a sumptuous feast where the guests at it, perhaps tipsy on holy wine, flit between discussions about ancient saints, the galvanizing sensation of heartbreaking sadness, and common stories about useless partners. In essence, it's a modern-day musical from music's most restlessly inventive visionary.
