Initially, this work could seem more like a challenging academic examination rather than the latest popular music album by an artist who just had a last single featured an international pop star. Split into four distinct movements and sung in thirteen tongues, it is a breathtaking orchestral-influenced work that delves into female mystique, spiritual ascent, and corporal transformation, often through the lens of various female saints. The end of a relationship—a theme treated with grounded honesty elsewhere—is launched upwards here, carried by the lush presence of a major orchestra and work from an award-winning songwriter among an extensive list of contributors. Its sheer audacity by itself renders the efforts of contemporary pop stars appear rather modest.
Transcending Scholarly Pretense
That this album succeeds in avoid overly academic chin-stroking is nearly a miracle, with complete credit belonging to the artist. While it's not her first project to blend historical sounds and the present, the ambitions feel much higher on Lux, with the tightrope walk more pronounced. The element that really elevates her fourth album, outside of its multilayered melodies, rich arrangements, and inherent drama, proves to be an essential sense of fun. Similar to the iconic Björk at her height, you find a wondrous sense to the vocalist's singing which sweeps the listener into its whirlwind. When she is breaking hearts apart, the listener still desire to stay alongside her for the ride.
A Prime Example of Joy
This playful spirit shines clearly on the stirring piano-led song about Saint Clare. It bathes in a sorrowful melancholy for more than four moments. Then, everything falls silent, and there's a gleeful laugh and a declaration before a comically exaggerated string surge crashes down with cartoonish force. The song then shifts to the frenetic single driven by racing strings, a powerful choral group, and a cameo appearance from none other than herself.
"The magic of Lux is that the listener never exactly know—or even want to know—what it is going next."
Nearly every song finishes at a completely distinct point than how it started. A track explores the transient nature of fame with a featherlight symphony only to collapsing into digital chaos. Elsewhere, a song that recalls the artist's previous trap-infused work begins off dark and sinister, with prowling vocals, until fluttering flamenco rhythms and an angelic chorus arrive to soften its jagged corners.
The Balance Between Art & Accessibility
A key achievement on the album is navigating the line of bold experimentation and mainstream appeal. This is little coincidence that the album has become her highest-charting release to break into the upper reaches of key markets: its heart contains a collection of utterly catchy pop songs. One track sung primarily in English swells on a refrain that feels to collect more and more infectious melodies while it spins upward. This trick gets repeated on a different expansive track that grows and contracts, weaving layered melodies as an intricate tapestry.
- A waltz-like number seduces via its jaunty, theatrical drama and a chant-along chorus.
- Lyrically, it aligns with cultural impact of contemporary breakup songs, lambasting a former partner described as an "emotional terrorist".
- Throughout these tracks, the vocals have a sharp smile, like a storybook figure hiding a blade: "Gold medal in acting like a scoundrel / You have the podium of disappointment."
An Opulent Feast for the Ears
Lux is popular music on a grand scale, an ambitious reach for high Art in an era of looming artificial sameness. It eschews self-absorption in favor of glorious transcendence, creating an over-the-top drama that skillfully controls its own inherent ridiculousness. This is an abundant well of hidden treasure that takes patience to fully mine but never feels like hard work. While other major pop albums of the year seemed like feasting on scraps, Lux offers a lavish feast where the characters around the table, some tipsy on holy drink, flit from discussions about historical figures, the galvanizing sensation of heartbreaking grief, and common gossip about hopeless men. It is a modern-day theatrical production from music's truly endlessly inventive practitioner.
