On the surface, Lux may look closer to a challenging university challenge than the latest pop project from an artist who just had a previous hit was a collaboration with a global pop icon. Split into four different parts and voiced in thirteen tongues, it is a breathtaking orchestral-influenced opus that delves into female mystery, spiritual transcendence, and bodily change, often by way of the prism of different saintly figures. The end of a love affair—a theme treated with raw honesty elsewhere—soars heavenward here, supported by the constant sound of a full symphony orchestra and input from a Pulitzer-winning composer within a vast list of collaborators. The pure daring by itself makes the work of contemporary artists appear quite modest.
Rising Above Scholarly Pretense
The fact that this album manages to escape overly academic chin-stroking feels almost a miracle, with complete praise going to Rosalía. While this is not her first project to alchemize historical sounds with the present, its ambitions are far greater here, and the balancing act more dramatic. What truly elevates this fourth album, outside of its multilayered melodies, dense compositions, and engrained drama, is a core spirit of fun. Similar to the legendary Björk during her height, you find a wondrous sense to Rosalía's singing which sweeps you up in its tornado. Even when she is tearing hearts in two, you still want to stay right there for the journey.
A Signature Moment of Exuberance
This playful spirit shines clearly during a stirring piano-led song inspired by Saint Clare. It bathes in a string-drenched melancholy over several minutes. Then, everything falls silent, and we hear a spontaneous laugh followed by a declaration before a comically exaggerated string crescendo crashes in like comedic force. The song then segues into the wild track driven by racing strings, an imposing choir, and a cameo role from none other than herself.
"The magic with this album is that you rarely quite understand—nor want to predict—what it will go to next."
Nearly each track ends in a completely distinct point than how it started. One moment examines the fleeting trappings of fame over a delicate orchestration before disintegrating in electronic cacophony. Elsewhere, a song echoing her previous rhythmic work begins off moody and brooding, with prowling beats, before sudden traditional handclaps and a heavenly chorus arrive to soften its rough edges.
The Balance Of Art and Accessibility
A key balancing act on Lux involves navigating the line between bold innovation and mainstream appeal. This is little surprise that it has achieved the artist's first work to break into the Top 5 of key markets: its heart contains a collection of truly catchy hits. A song sung entirely in the English language builds on a chorus that seems to collect increasingly infectious hooks as it spirals upward. This trick is echoed by another powerful track that expands and constricts, intertwining multiple tunes as an intricate tapestry.
- A dance-infused number seduces with its playful, Disney-adjacent drama and an anthemic hook.
- In its words, it aligns with pop culture impact of contemporary heartbreak songs, lambasting a former partner labeled an "psychological terrorist".
- Throughout these tracks, the vocals carry a painted-on edge, like a fairy-tale character hiding a knife: "Gold medal in being a motherfucker / You've the podium of letdown."
A Maximalist Banquet for the Ears
This album represents popular music on a maximalist level, an ambitious reach for high Art in an era of looming artificial sameness. It eschews self-absorption in favor of sublime elevation, crafting a dramatic drama that skillfully manages its inherent excess. This is an abundant well of buried treasure that requires time to completely explore but never seem like a chore. While other major pop albums of the year seemed like feasting on scraps, Lux is a sumptuous feast at which the characters around it, some tipsy on holy drink, flutter from conversations about ancient saints, the profound sensation of heartbreaking grief, and shared gossip about useless partners. In essence, it's a modern-day theatrical production from pop's most endlessly inventive visionary.
