Unless you’ve been living under a rock, or not on Earth this month, then you’ve definitely heard about Rosalía’s newest Album, LUX. Coming out with a bang, the only single on the album, Berghain, by Rosalía, Björk, and Yves Tumor, was performed in Spanish, English, and German. This single kicked off the release of 1 album in 14 languages, with 23 translations, making it a music event on Earth uniting listeners across languages and cultures.
This album, with its extensive focus on lyrics, was a big buzz for us Musixmatchers and fans globally. As a listener who only speaks English, I had the pleasure of experiencing the album: listening to the music, then listening again to understand the lyrics, and both times were transcendent. Luckily or by divine intervention, I didn’t have to struggle to understand because the translations were available on the day of the release, thanks to the Musixmatch team and the, dare I say, omnipotence of pre-release lyrics.
Musically, the album blends classical and orchestral elements with contemporary pop, drawing on the traditional folk music of Portugal and Italy and on flamenco. The album is as musically diverse as it is linguistically. Lyrically, the album draws inspiration from female saints and combines their stories with contemporary manifestations of their experiences, shedding light on topics of femininity, spirituality, mysticism, and transformation.
A central theme radiating throughout the album is women and divinity, their proximity and interconnectedness, continuing what, in my view, should be an everlasting dialogue.
Starting softly like a gentle love song, the rug is pulled out from under the listener from the moment she sings. The dreamy music is juxtaposed with the venomous lyrics, which make me feel like a woman scorned who has snapped. La Perla gives me nearly 20 new ways to diss a bad man, and to Rosalía, I couldn't be more grateful for the added vocabulary. Oh, and did I mention that, because there were 23 translations available immediately on Musixmatch, I actually got to learn those 20 new disses in so many languages.
The dramatic swells of string and brass create drama and grandeur, only to be cut by her laughs, presumably at this pearl of a man. The song, while intimate with the singer's relationship, is equally transferable to anyone who's ever been scorned. It is playful, and not what a listener may expect; the lyrics drive home a local fiasco, an emotional terrorist, a man may be. And for being on an album with 14 languages, Rosalía hits us with another unspoken language: loyalty, fidelity, one that this pearl won't understand.
What first captivated me in this song was the breathy, rapping-style vocals layered amongst the flamenco palmas (hand claps) and percussion. It induced in me anxiety, excitement, anticipation, and intrigue. With English translations of Spanish, Ukrainian, and Catalan lyrics, these feelings boiled down to one central concept: revenge.
Inspired by Saint Olga of Kyiv, the song is a call to battle, a catalyst for revenge, whether we want it or not, and the subsequent light that shines down after dawn. Revenge becomes an inescapable force, the anxiety and anticipation for dawn, the excitement or elation of the path you must walk.
In my humble opinion, Divinize is the central pillar of the album, each time I listen I enter into a flow state. According to Rosalía, we are divine through our own creation, our own will to shine light through bruises. She conveys unrelenting belief and certainty of the ability to divinize despite, and in the face of, adversity. The lyrics inspire resiliency, and, coupled with a blend of classical elements (violin) and techno and electronic components, the song is ethereal and transcendent. The listener transforms into this state of divinity, guided through the conflict of the forbidden red fruit, being nearly dead, a ghost brought back to life, and through this state of divinity, both inside and out.
Inspired by poet, mystic, and Saint Rabia al-Adawiyya, the song explores the concept of divine nearness and interconnectedness- but without promises and without threats. Rosalía references a line from the Qur'an, describing the closeness and connectedness between God and humans: "You're at once far/ And closer still /Than my own jugular vein"- and that this devotion would come from pure and selfless love.
The track blends flamenco, orchestral sounds, and Arab-Andalusian influences, featuring multilingual lyrics in Spanish, Arabic, and English. As she begins to explain this interconnected, the sound builds and builds, creating an almost eerie feeling of how small and insignificant we are, yet we fit into the space, and it fits within us. Heavenly voices singing transport you, and then we come to the part where she speaks on the interconnectedness and layerlessness of the world. She gives us examples of a haiku and world, splinters and galaxies, pyramids and glasses of milk, and the Titanic in lipstick tubes. And the song builds to a powerful melody that takes the listener on an ascent.
I’ve barely scratched the surface of this album; there are layers of thought and analysis that warrant a depth that I could not do justice to. But as Rosalía refers to in Reliqua, leaving bits of yourself in other places, she’s done the very inverse for us as listeners, transporting us to new cultures and languages, bringing us knowledge of saints and deities, and creating an album that transcends language barriers, creating an album intended to be enjoyed by anyone.
Part of the ethereal beauty and experience of this album was that the intention was realized through lyrics and lyric translations that were available immediately to listeners, nearly every listener was able to experience the divine music but also the lyrics and understand them in their own language creating a cultural event on earth.
