It was after her acclaimed album “El Mal Querer” was released in 2018 that I discovered Rosalía’s music. Although I liked it moderately, it was after the 2022 release of her even more acclaimed album, “Motomami” — an amusing blend of alternative reggaeton and experimental pop — that I began to trust that everything she did was spectacular. Her newest album “LUX,” released on Nov. 7, proved my trust was not misplaced.
There was a moment between the rise of “Motomami” and her extended play “RR,” in collaboration with her then-partner and fellow reggaeton artist Rauw Alejandro, when I felt that Rosalía had almost permanently anchored herself to the reggaeton scene, building a loud, unapologetically sensual, biker aesthetic, with leather, motorbikes, hedonistic energy and a dash of humor. “LUX” turns out to be the complete opposite: a liturgical, sober project, whose minimalist and luminous cover announces a drastic change in tone. Was I surprised by this turn? Yes, but in the best possible way, as it reveals a level of vulnerability and artistic ambition unlike current mainstream pop.
With “LUX,” Rosalía not only surpassed my expectations, but also showed how well musical versatility can be achieved when there is depth behind what you do.
The album is, above all, an exploration of spirituality, fragility and the search for transcendence. “LUX” constructs a space where the body is both sacred and fragile, and language becomes a tool for connection rather than a mere stylistic device. Rosalía does not sing in 13 languages for the sake of novelty, but rather to gain a greater understanding of what holiness means in other cultural settings — a desire to understand herself and others beyond cultural borders.
Unlike “Motomami’s” explosive nature, “LUX” is much more serene and contemplative. As an avid listener, I don’t find this new variety of languages and genres disconcerting, but rather an invitation to step away from the immediacy of mainstream music and delve into something more demanding, but also much more rewarding.
Rosalía set the tone for “LUX” with her fiery lead single “Berghain,” featuring Björk, Yves Tumor and the London Symphony Orchestra. Performed in German, English and Spanish, the single speaks of the need for divine intervention to save oneself from the burdens of the heart. That was all it took to make her fans go from wanting to be sexy bikers to wanting a closer relationship with God.
The rest of the album expands on the construction of this universe of feminine mysticism. It is ambitious not only for its multicultural scope, but also for the way it fuses sacred music, classical influences, choral arrangements and electronic elements, creating a coherent conceptual world that challenges those who dare to listen.
Her song “Porcelana,” featuring Dougie F, is a perfect example — performed in Spanish, Latin, English and Japanese, it describes her porcelain skin, which, although it glows, its fragility makes it a “divine ruin.” She plays with the idea of beauty as an empowering weapon but also as a destructive burden. She explores the theme of fragility further in her song “Magnolias,” the last song on the album and one of my favorites. In it, Rosalía describes her own funeral with “Gasolina y vino tinto, puros y chocolate” (Gasoline and red wine, cigars and chocolate) — a small wink towards “Motomami.” Accompanied by the angelic voices of the Escolania de Montserrat choir, Rosalía sings about her desire for those around her to celebrate what she was unable to in life and her desire to transcend into something wholly divine upon her departure.
It is evident that through “LUX,” Rosalía’s goal was not to create musical hits that would generate traction on social media, but to create a more challenging experience for the listener and leave a longer-lasting impact. However, many mistook ambition for arrogance, arguing that this liturgical concept combined with the inclusion of the many languages is simply too much for casual listening. It is certainly a far cry from the sensual and hedonistic immediacy of “Motomami,” but in my opinion, it is not a matter of arrogance, but rather a purposeful use of free will.
As Rosalía herself explained in an interview with The New York Times, “I think if I made this album, it was out of love and curiosity — wanting to learn other languages, wanting to understand the other.” In a cultural moment obsessed with instant gratification, “LUX” strikes me as a comforting reminder that art can still aspire to something deeper and that we as an audience can still rise to the occasion.
