At first glance, this work may look more like a difficult academic quiz than a new popular music record from a musician who just had a last hit featured an international K-pop icon. Divided across four separate movements and performed in 13 languages, it is a dizzying symphonic album that delves into feminine mystery, spiritual transcendence, and physical transformation, frequently through the perspective of various saintly figures. The end of a relationship—a theme handled with grounded openness elsewhere—is launched heavenward here, supported by the lush sound of a full symphony orchestra and work from an award-winning songwriter among a long list of collaborators. Its sheer audacity by itself renders the work of contemporary pop stars seem rather small.
That Lux succeeds in avoid overly intellectual posturing is almost a miracle, and sole credit going to Rosalía. Although this is not the first time album to blend the past and the present, its ambitions are much greater on Lux, and the balancing act more pronounced. The element that truly raises this fourth release, outside of its complex tunes, dense compositions, and inherent theatricality, is an essential spirit of fun. Similar to the iconic artist during her height, there is a wondrous sense to the vocalist's voice that pulls you into its tornado. When she is tearing your heart in two, you nevertheless want to be right there for the ride.
This exuberant energy shines brightly during a stirring piano-led song inspired by Saint Clare. It luxuriates in a string-drenched whirlpool for more than four moments. Then, everything falls silent, to reveal we hear a spontaneous laugh followed by a declaration before a comically exaggerated orchestral surge crashes in like cartoonish force. The track immediately shifts into the frenetic single driven by galloping strings, a powerful choral group, and a cameo role from none other than herself.
"The charm of this album lies in the listener never exactly know—or even want to know—what it will go next."
Almost each song ends at a completely distinct place than how it began. One moment examines the fleeting trappings of fame over a featherlight symphony before disintegrating in digital cacophony. Another, a cut echoing the artist's previous trap-infused style begins off dark and brooding, with menacing vocals, until sudden traditional rhythms and an angelic chorus arrive to soften its rough corners.
Another crucial balancing act of the album is straddling the gap of radical innovation and mainstream appeal. It is no surprise that it has become the artist's highest-charting release to break into the Top 5 of major markets: its heart contains a collection of utterly undeniable hits. A song sung primarily in the English language builds around a chorus that seems to collect increasingly infectious hooks while it spirals upward. That feat gets echoed by a different expansive track that grows and contracts, intertwining multiple melodies like a complex tapestry.
This album represents popular music on a maximalist level, an ambitious grasp for high artistry in an era of impending AI-generated sameness. It rejects solipsism in favor of glorious elevation, creating a dramatic drama that masterfully controls its own inherent excess. It is a deep well of buried treasure that requires patience to completely mine but never feels like hard work. While other big releases of the year felt like a meager meal, Lux is a sumptuous banquet at which the characters at it, some intoxicated on sacred drink, flutter from conversations about ancient figures, the profound sensation of heartbreaking grief, and shared gossip about hopeless partners. It is a contemporary musical from pop's most endlessly creative practitioner.
Elara is a music journalist and cultural critic with a passion for uncovering emerging artists and trends across genres.