On the surface, this work might appear more like a difficult scholarly examination rather than the latest pop album by an artist who just had a last hit was a collaboration with a global pop star. Split into four separate parts and performed in thirteen languages, this is a head-spinning classical-tinged work that delves into female mystery, spiritual ascent, and physical transformation, frequently via the prism of various saintly figures. The end of a love affair—a theme treated with grounded honesty elsewhere—is shot skyward here, carried by the constant sound of a major orchestra and input from an award-winning songwriter within a vast roll call of collaborators. The pure daring by itself renders the work of contemporary pop stars seem rather laughable.
Transcending Scholarly Exercise
The fact that this album manages to avoid dry intellectual chin-stroking is nothing short of miraculous, with full praise going to the artist. Although this is not her first album to blend historical sounds and the present, its scale are much greater on Lux, with the tightrope walk more dramatic. The element that really elevates her fourth album, beyond its multilayered tunes, dense compositions, and inherent theatricality, proves to be an essential spirit of joy. Similar to the iconic Björk at her peak, you find a wondrous quality to Rosalía's voice which sweeps the listener into its tornado. When she is tearing hearts apart, you nevertheless want to be right there through the journey.
A Prime Example of Joy
That playful spirit shines brightly on a stunning piano-led song inspired by Saint Clare. It luxuriates in a string-drenched melancholy over more than four minutes. Suddenly, all the music drops silent, to reveal there's a spontaneous laugh and a comment prior to a hilariously over-the-top string crescendo thuds in with cartoonish impact. The song immediately segues into the wild single driven by galloping strings, an imposing choir, and a surprise role from none other than Björk.
"The magic with this album lies in the listener never quite understand—or even want to predict—where you will go to next."
Almost every track ends at a completely different point than where it started. One moment examines the transient nature of celebrity with a featherlight orchestration before disintegrating into electronic cacophony. Elsewhere, a song that recalls her previous trap-infused style begins off dark and sinister, with menacing beats, until sudden traditional handclaps and an angelic choir enter to smooth the song's rough edges.
The Bridge Between Art and Pop
Another crucial balancing act of Lux is navigating the line between radical experimentation and broad accessibility. It is no coincidence that it has achieved the artist's first release to crack the upper reaches of major markets: its heart contains a suite of truly undeniable pop songs. One track sung primarily in the English language swells around a refrain that seems to collect increasingly nagging melodies while it spins skyward. This trick gets echoed by another powerful ballad that grows and constricts, weaving multiple melodies like an intricate tapestry.
- A dance-infused number charms via its jaunty, Disney-adjacent drama and an anthemic chorus.
- Lyrically, it aligns with pop culture honesty of other breakup songs, eviscerating a former lover described as an "emotional terrorist".
- Throughout these tracks, the vocals carry a painted-on edge, like a storybook figure hiding a blade: "Top prize in being a scoundrel / You've won the trophy of letdown."
A Maximalist Feast for the Ears
Lux is popular music on a maximalist scale, an ambitious grasp for capital-A Art in an era of looming artificial blankness. It eschews self-absorption for glorious transcendence, crafting a dramatic spectacle that masterfully controls its own inherent ridiculousness. This is an abundant well of hidden gems that takes patience to completely mine but never feels like a chore. Where some major pop albums of 2025 felt like feasting on meal, Lux offers a lavish feast at which the characters at it, some intoxicated on sacred drink, flit from conversations about historical saints, the profound sensation of heartbreaking grief, and shared stories about useless partners. In essence, it's a modern-day theatrical production from pop's most restlessly inventive visionary.
