At first glance, this work may look closer to an arduous academic examination than the latest pop album by a musician whose previous hit was a collaboration with a global pop star. Divided across four different movements and voiced in 13 languages, we have a head-spinning orchestral-influenced work investigating female mystery, spiritual transcendence, and physical transformation, frequently via the perspective of different women saints. The end of a relationship—a theme handled with raw openness elsewhere—soars skyward on this record, buoyed by the lush sound of a full orchestra and work from a Pulitzer-winning composer among a long list of collaborators. The pure ambition by itself renders the efforts of other artists look rather small.
Transcending Scholarly Pretense
The fact that this album succeeds in transcend dry intellectual chin-stroking is almost a miracle, and sole praise going to the artist. Although it's not the first time project to fuse historical sounds and the present, its scale feel far higher here, and the balancing act far more dramatic. What truly elevates her fourth release, outside of its multilayered melodies, rich compositions, and inherent theatricality, is a core spirit of playfulness. Similar to the legendary Björk during her height, there is a captivating sense to Rosalía's voice that pulls you up in its whirlwind. Even when she's breaking hearts in two, the listener still want to be alongside her for the journey.
A Prime Example of Joy
That playful spirit shines brightly on a stirring piano-led song about Saint Clare. It bathes in a string-drenched melancholy for more than four minutes. Suddenly, all the music drops silent, and there's a gleeful giggle followed by a comment before a hilariously over-the-top string surge crashes in like cartoonish force. The track immediately segues to the wild track featuring racing strings, a powerful choral group, and a surprise appearance from none other than Björk.
"The charm with Lux is that you never exactly understand—nor wish to predict—what it will go next."
Almost every song ends in a totally different point than how it began. A track explores the transient nature of celebrity over a delicate symphony before collapsing in electronic chaos. Elsewhere, a cut echoing the artist's previous trap-infused work begins out dark and sinister, featuring prowling beats, before sudden flamenco rhythms and an angelic chorus arrive to smooth its rough edges.
The Bridge Between Experiment & Accessibility
A key achievement on the album involves navigating the gap between bold experimentation and broad accessibility. It is no coincidence that the album has become the artist's first release to crack the Top 5 of key charts: at its core a collection of utterly undeniable pop songs. A song performed entirely in English builds around a refrain that feels to collect more and more infectious melodies while it spins skyward. That feat is echoed by another expansive ballad that grows and constricts, intertwining layered tunes as a complex weave.
- A waltz-like number seduces with its playful, Disney-adjacent drama and an anthemic chorus.
- In its words, it shares the pop culture honesty of contemporary breakup anthems, lambasting a former lover described as an "emotional terrorist".
- Across these tracks, the singing have a painted-on smile, akin to a fairy-tale figure hiding a knife: "Gold medal in being a scoundrel / You've won the trophy of letdown."
An Opulent Banquet for the Ears
Lux is pop on a maximalist scale, an ambitious grasp for high artistry in an era of looming artificial blankness. It rejects solipsism for glorious transcendence, creating an over-the-top drama that masterfully controls its own built-in excess. This is an abundant well of buried gems that requires patience to fully mine but doesn't seem like hard work. While some big pop albums of the year seemed like feasting on meal, Lux offers a lavish feast at which the characters at the table, some intoxicated on sacred wine, flit from conversations about historical figures, the profound feeling of heartbreaking sadness, and shared stories about useless partners. In essence, it's a modern-day theatrical production from music's most restlessly inventive visionary.
