On paper, Lux reads more like a particularly tricky bonus round on University Challenge than the new album by a pop artist whose previous single was a collaboration with Lisa from Blackpink. Split into four distinct movements and sung in 13 languages, Lux is a head-spinning, classical music-adjacent opus exploring feminine mystique, religious transcendence and corporal transformation, often via the prism of various female saints. The dissolution of a relationship – grounded and laid bare on Lily Allen’s West End Girl, 2025’s other dissection of heartbreak – is shot heavenwards here, buffeted by the constant presence of the London Symphony Orchestra and the input of Pulitzer prize-winning composer Caroline Shaw among a scroll-sized list of collaborators. Its audacity alone makes the efforts of Rosalía’s pop peers look pretty laughable.
The fact that Lux manages to transcend scholarly chin-stroking and dry Wiki deep dives is near miraculous, and the credit is solely Rosalía’s. While this isn’t her first album to alchemise the past and present – see 2018’s El Mal Querer and its heady flamenco-R&B hybrid – the stakes are far higher on Lux, and the balancing act more pronounced. What elevates her fourth album, outside its multilayered melodies, rich compositions and engrained drama, is the playfulness at its heart. Like Björk during her 90s peak, there’s a sense of wonderment to Rosalía’s voice that sweeps you up into its tornado. Even when she’s tearing your heart in two, as on La Yugular’s blossoming balladry, or the ascension to heaven on the closing Magnolias, you want to be right there with her.
