The staff of Mother Jones is, once again, rounding up the heroes and monsters of the past year. This is a non-exhaustive and totally subjective list, giving our reporters a chance to write about something that brought joy, discontent, or curiosity. Happy holidays.
Whether it’s AI-generated music artists debuting on the Billboard charts, music labels courting TikTok virality, Grammy-nominated artists using AI to help write lyrics, or streaming services making it increasingly difficult to listen to full albums, watching the music industry slowly deteriorate has made me feel pessimistic about its future.
So in November, when Rosalía dropped her new song “Berghain”—a lush, operatic pop single sung in German, English, and Spanish and accompanied by a full symphony orchestra and choir—my interest was piqued. I became really invested watching an interview between the Spanish pop star and Zane Lowe about her fourth studio album, Lux. Rosalía told Lowe that the album was an excuse to do what she was craving most at the time: reading and studying about “spirituality and broadening my horizons of what spirituality is.” As she continued to speak with Lowe, it became clear just how much research went into making this album. And since Lux’s debut on Nov. 7, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the intricacies of her work.
Separated into four “movements,” like a classical symphony, Lux explores religion, femininity, celebrity, desire, forgiveness, heartbreak, and more over the course of 15 dynamic tracks of classically inflected pop. Throughout the project, she delivers a beautiful, at times haunting, vocal performance that paints a vivid picture even for listeners who don’t understand all 13 languages she sings in (among them: Spanish, Catalan, English, Ukrainian, and Arabic). With the help of the London Symphony Orchestra and Catalan choirs, along with a host of other performers including Bjork and Yves Tumor, Rosalía blends flamenco, folk, and classical traditions with her distinct electronic production, making classical music more accessible to a general audience.
Lux also has a cultural and historical specificity that extends its reach globally. In her lyrics, Rosalía blends her experiences with those of female saints and religious figures from around the world, such as Teresa de Jesús and Sun Bu’er. “I lost my tongue in Paris, / my time in LA / my heels in Milan, / my smile in the UK, / But my heart has never been mine / I always give it away,” Rosalía sings on “Reliquia.” While these lyrics could be simple metaphors for Rosalía’s vulnerability in love and fame, she said they’re also inspired by Saint Rose of Lima, whose relics were “scattered around the world.”
With each song, the album builds layer upon layer for listeners to engage with. Rosalía has described the album as maximalist; on it, she holds nothing back for her audience, doesn’t simplify, and instead invites them to explore the work on their own terms. Along with its critical acclaim, Lux debuted at No. 1 across five Billboard charts: Top Latin Albums, Top Latin Pop Albums, Classical Albums, Classical Crossover, and World Albums. The album also earned Rosalía her first top 10 on the Billboard 200, debuting at No. 4.
Rosalía’s Lux shows that the public is hungry for something more complex from its pop music. And while we probably won’t see people rushing to get music theory degrees, start researching the lives of saints, or even see more pop artists begin singing opera, I’ve found that for me, the album has been a catalyst to learn about so many different pieces of music and art history. Over Thanksgiving, it started a conversation with classically trained friends about Rosalía’s year-long translation process and the 12th-century mystic, poet, and composer Hildegard von Bingen. It was also how I discovered a 1976 Patti Smith interview, sampled on the song “La Yugular,” in which Smith speaks about her desire to push boundaries as an artist: “It’s just like going through one door. One door isn’t enough. A million doors aren’t enough. You have to go beyond.” It has also led me to explore opportunities locally to listen to orchestras and watch opera (currently, I’m considering whether to purchase tickets for an upcoming performance of the Philadelphia Orchestra, or to watch the Alabama Symphony Orchestra when I head home to see my family). Whichever show I attend, I’m glad that Lux exists to spark conversations and give me at least a little hope for the future of the music industry.
This post has been syndicated from Mother Jones, where it was published under this address.