At first glance, Lux might appear more like an arduous academic quiz rather than a new popular music project by an artist who just had a last single featured a global pop star. Split into four distinct parts and voiced in 13 languages, it is a dizzying orchestral-influenced opus exploring feminine mystery, religious ascent, and corporal change, frequently through the prism of various women saints. The end of a relationship—a theme treated with raw honesty on another major 2025 album—soars skyward on this record, supported by the constant sound of a major orchestra and work from an award-winning songwriter within an extensive roll call of contributors. The pure daring alone makes the work of contemporary pop stars seem quite modest.
The fact that Lux succeeds in avoid overly intellectual posturing is nothing short of miraculous, with complete praise belonging to RosalÃa. While this is not the first time album to alchemize historical sounds with modern styles, the ambitions feel much higher here, with the tightrope walk far more pronounced. What truly raises this fourth release, outside of its multilayered tunes, rich arrangements, and inherent drama, proves to be an essential sense of playfulness. Much like the iconic Björk at her peak, there is a wondrous sense to the vocalist's voice that pulls the listener into its whirlwind. When she is tearing hearts apart, you nevertheless desire to be alongside her for the journey.
This exuberant energy comes forth clearly on the stunning Italian song inspired by Saint Clare. It bathes in a string-drenched whirlpool for more than four minutes. Then, all the music falls silent, and there's a spontaneous giggle and a comment prior to a comically exaggerated string crescendo thuds down like comedic impact. The song immediately segues into the wild track featuring galloping orchestration, a powerful choral group, and a surprise appearance from the artist Björk.
"The magic with Lux lies in you rarely quite understand—or even wish to know—where you will go to next."
Almost each song finishes in a totally different point than where it started. A track examines the fleeting trappings of fame with a featherlight symphony only to collapsing in digital cacophony. Elsewhere, a cut echoing the artist's earlier rhythmic style starts off moody and brooding, featuring menacing beats, before fluttering flamenco rhythms and a heavenly choir arrive to soften the song's rough edges.
Another crucial achievement on Lux is navigating the gap of bold innovation and mainstream appeal. It is no coincidence that it has become her first work to break into the upper reaches of major markets: its heart contains a collection of utterly undeniable pop songs. A song sung entirely in English builds around a chorus that seems to gather more and more nagging melodies while it spirals skyward. That feat is echoed by a different powerful ballad that grows and contracts, weaving multiple melodies as an intricate weave.
This album represents popular music on a maximalist scale, a hungry grasp for capital-A Art amid of impending artificial blankness. It rejects solipsism in favor of sublime elevation, crafting a dramatic drama that masterfully controls its inherent excess. It is an abundant source of hidden gems that requires patience to completely explore but doesn't seem like a chore. Where other major releases of the year felt like feasting on scraps, this record offers a sumptuous feast at which the characters at the table, perhaps intoxicated on holy wine, flit between discussions about historical figures, the galvanizing feeling of soul-shattering sadness, and shared stories about hopeless men. It is a modern-day theatrical production from music's truly restlessly creative practitioner.
A historian and collector of royal memorabilia with a passion for British heritage.