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On the surface, Lux could seem more like an arduous scholarly examination rather than the latest pop record by an artist who just had a last hit was a collaboration with an international pop icon. Split into 4 different movements and sung in thirteen languages, we have a head-spinning classical-tinged album investigating female mystery, religious transcendence, and bodily change, often via the prism of different female saints. The end of a relationship—a theme handled with grounded honesty elsewhere—soars heavenward here, buoyed by the lush presence of a full orchestra and contributions from an award-winning songwriter among an extensive roll call of collaborators. Its sheer ambition by itself makes the work of other artists seem quite modest.

Transcending Scholarly Exercise

That this album manages to avoid dry intellectual posturing feels nothing short of miraculous, with sole praise going to Rosalía. While this is not her first project to fuse the past with modern styles, the scale are much greater on Lux, and the balancing act far more precarious. The element that truly elevates this fourth album, outside of its complex melodies, rich arrangements, and inherent theatricality, is a core sense of fun. Much like the iconic artist during her height, you find a wondrous quality to Rosalía's singing which sweeps the listener up in its whirlwind. When she is tearing your heart in two, the listener still desire to be alongside her for the journey.

A Prime Example of Joy

This exuberant spirit shines brightly on a stirring Italian song inspired by Saint Clare. It luxuriates in a sorrowful melancholy over more than four moments. Suddenly, all the music drops silent, and we hear a spontaneous laugh and a declaration before a comically over-the-top orchestral surge thuds in like cartoonish impact. The track then segues to the wild single featuring racing orchestration, a powerful choral group, and a surprise appearance from none other than Björk.

"The magic with Lux is that you never exactly understand—nor want to predict—what you will go to next."

Almost every track finishes in a totally different point from where it began. A track explores the fleeting nature of fame over a featherlight symphony before collapsing in digital chaos. Another, a song that recalls the artist's previous rhythmic work starts off dark and sinister, with menacing beats, until fluttering traditional rhythms and an angelic choir enter to soften the song's jagged edges.

The Balance Between Art and Accessibility

Another crucial achievement on Lux involves straddling the gap between radical experimentation and mainstream appeal. This is no surprise that it has become the artist's highest-charting release to break into the upper reaches of major charts: at its core a collection of utterly catchy hits. A song sung primarily in the English language swells around a refrain that feels to gather more and more nagging melodies while it spins upward. That feat gets echoed by another expansive ballad that grows and contracts, weaving layered tunes like an intricate weave.

• A waltz-like song seduces with its jaunty, theatrical flair and a chant-along hook.
• In its words, it shares the pop culture impact of contemporary heartbreak songs, lambasting an ex- lover described as an "psychological terrorist".
• Across the album, the singing have a sharp edge, like a storybook character concealing a blade: "Gold medal in acting like a motherfucker / You've won the trophy of disappointment."

A Maximalist Feast for the Ears

Lux is popular music on a grand scale, a hungry reach for high artistry in an era of looming artificial sameness. It eschews solipsism for sublime transcendence, crafting a dramatic drama that masterfully manages its own built-in excess. This is a deep source of hidden gems that takes time to completely explore but doesn't feels like hard work. While other major pop albums of the year felt like a meager scraps, Lux offers a sumptuous feast at which the guests at it, perhaps intoxicated on sacred drink, flutter between conversations about ancient saints, the profound feeling of heartbreaking grief, and common stories about useless men. In essence, it's a modern-day musical from pop's truly endlessly creative practitioner.