Rosalía - LUX Review
Rosalía ascends to new artistic heights on Lux, a breathtaking and deeply spiritual album that fuses classical grandeur with emotional vulnerability.
Rosalía is someone whose ability to outdo herself with every single release should never be underestimated. Unafraid of being adventurous with the music she makes, she has spent her career pushing genre boundaries to their very limit: jumping from pop and hip-hop infused flamenco on her first two albums to the combination of electronic music and reggaeton on 2022’s Motomami. On her fourth album Lux, she dives head first into more classical territory and the listening experience is entirely different.
Rosalía doesn’t need to make an album like Lux. With her status as one of the most streamed and recognisable artists on the planet, she could have easily delivered another sleek, radio-friendly record and still dominated the charts. Instead, she’s chosen to create something far riskier and more intricate, an album that challenges the listener as much as it rewards them. It’s a reminder that pop’s true power lies not in repetition but in reinvention, and that Rosalía is one of the few artists operating at her level who continues to treat her success as a platform for genuine artistic exploration rather than a safety net.
This album isn’t the kind to be stuck on whilst you get on with mundane tasks, instead it demands your full attention as she shifts between 13 languages across four movements with glorious backing from the London Symphony Orchestra. Whilst it would be incredibly shallow to declare Lux strictly a breakup album, it’s clear to see how much heartbreak and its aftermath have shaped its contents with the singer turning towards the divine and the stories of female saints to guide her through the things she has experienced.
On ‘Reliquia’ she ultimately declares herself an unforgettable figure as she recalls all the places she left parts of herself, strings mimicking this idea as they cut through a flamenco beat. She doesn’t hold back elsewhere either, ‘La Perla’ sees her really dig into an ex as she throws insults his way left, right and centre in a way that doesn’t quite match the instrumental that lies beneath them. Without listening to ‘Berghain’ you would perhaps expect it to be a diversion into the techno sound that the world-famous German club is known for, rather it’s a nod to Rosalía’s classical training by way of a three minute opera featuring a grand arrangement of strings before Bjork makes an appearance to break the listener out of song’s repetitiveness only to remind them that the only way they can truly be saved is through believing in a divine power.
It’s also possible to suggest that some of the tracks on Lux are a glimpse into Rosalia’s view of the female celebrity and how society places them on a pedestal like on ‘Dios Es Un Stalker’ where she plays into this idea, positioning herself as a God and demonstrating fascination with others the same way fans do celebrities. ‘Sauvignon Blanc’ finds her happy enough to reject a life of luxury as long as she has her faith, a nice circle back to the declaration that her relationship with God trumps all in the opening track.
Lux unfolds like a full-scale cinematic experience, each track swelling with the kind of drama and grandeur usually reserved for the big screen. The orchestral arrangements crash and shimmer, guiding the listener through moments of heartbreak, revelation, and transcendence.
There’s probably no better way to close an album like this than with ‘Magnolias’ where death is so openly accepted. It’s a build up of strings, echoing drums and finally the organ for that last bit of wow factor. By the end of the record, it’s impossible not to be in total awe of Rosalía’s genius. Lux stands her on an entirely different level to her peers in modern pop music.