🔗 Share this article

On the surface, Lux could seem more like a difficult scholarly challenge rather than the latest popular music record from a musician whose previous single was a collaboration with an international K-pop star. Broken across 4 separate sections and voiced in 13 languages, we have a head-spinning symphonic work investigating feminine mystique, religious transcendence, and corporal change, frequently via the lens of different women saints. The dissolution of a relationship—a theme treated with grounded openness on another major 2025 album—is launched upwards on this record, carried by the constant sound of a full symphony orchestra and input from an award-winning songwriter within a vast roll call of collaborators. Its sheer audacity by itself renders the work of contemporary pop stars seem rather modest.

Transcending Scholarly Exercise

The fact that Lux manages to transcend dry intellectual chin-stroking is nothing short of a miracle, with complete credit going to Rosalía. Although it's not the first time album to alchemize historical sounds and modern styles, its stakes are much greater on Lux, and the tightrope walk far more pronounced. The element that really raises her fourth release, beyond its multilayered melodies, dense arrangements, and engrained theatricality, is a core sense of fun. Much like the iconic Björk at her peak, you find a wondrous quality to Rosalía's singing that pulls you into its tornado. Even when she is tearing hearts in two, the listener still want to be right there through the ride.

A Signature Moment of Joy

This exuberant energy comes forth clearly on a stirring Italian song about Saint Clare. It luxuriates in a sorrowful whirlpool over more than four minutes. Suddenly, everything drops away, to reveal there's a gleeful giggle and a comment before a hilariously exaggerated orchestral surge thuds down like cartoonish force. The song then shifts into the wild track driven by galloping strings, a powerful choir, and a surprise appearance from none other than herself.

"The magic with Lux is that you rarely quite know—or even want to know—where it will go to next."

Nearly each song concludes in a completely different point than where it began. A track examines the fleeting nature of fame over a delicate orchestration before collapsing in digital cacophony. Elsewhere, a cut that recalls her earlier trap-infused style begins out moody and sinister, featuring menacing beats, until fluttering flamenco handclaps and a heavenly choir enter to soften its jagged edges.

The Bridge Of Experiment & Accessibility

Another crucial balancing act of the album involves straddling the line between radical innovation and mainstream appeal. It is no surprise that it has achieved her first work to break into the Top 5 of major charts: at its core a suite of truly catchy hits. A song performed entirely in the English language builds around a chorus that seems to gather more and more nagging hooks as it spins skyward. That trick gets repeated on another powerful ballad that expands and contracts, intertwining multiple melodies as a complex weave.

• A dance-infused song charms with its jaunty, theatrical flair and an anthemic chorus.
• In its words, it aligns with cultural honesty of contemporary breakup songs, eviscerating an ex- lover described as an "psychological terrorist".
• Across the album, the vocals carry a sharp smile, akin to a storybook figure hiding a knife: "Top prize in being a scoundrel / You've won the trophy of disappointment."

An Opulent Banquet for the Ears

This album is pop on a maximalist scale, an ambitious grasp for capital-A artistry amid of impending AI-generated blankness. It eschews solipsism in favor of glorious transcendence, crafting an over-the-top drama that skillfully manages its own built-in ridiculousness. This is an abundant source of hidden treasure that takes patience to fully explore but doesn't seem like a chore. While other big pop albums of 2025 felt like a meager meal, this record is a lavish banquet where the guests at the table, perhaps tipsy on holy drink, flit between conversations about historical saints, the profound feeling of soul-shattering sadness, and common stories about hopeless partners. In essence, it's a contemporary theatrical production from music's most restlessly creative visionary.