ROSALIA
L U X
Culture 04TH NOVEMBER / Music
13 Languages!
Heartbreak!
Björk! (& Euphoria)
'LUX'
Musician ROSALIA
In the two years since her last sonic chapter, the Spanish artist has emerged from the flames of Motomami into something luminous, raw, and radically free. Her upcoming album, LUX — executively produced by Rosalía herself and orchestrated with the London Symphony under Daníel Bjarnason — is an audacious experiment in language, feeling, and form.
Across thirteen languages, LUX unfolds as a cinematic atlas of human emotion — heartbreak, euphoria, and awakening coexisting in brutal harmony. It’s less an album than a ritual of transformation, where sound, word, and silence converse like celestial bodies in orbit.
In her seventh track "La Perla" from the 2025 album LUX, Rosalía describes herself as an “emotional terrorist,” singing, "The local disappointment / National heartbreaker / An emotional terrorist / The biggest global disaster," reflecting on heartbreak and the power of words — not as provocation, but as philosophy. Words matter. We talk too much about nothing, and read too little about what matters. Creation, for her, happens in stillness — horizontal, as she jokes — lying in bed, drained, waiting for meaning to arrive uninvited. “Things come to you,” she says, “when you stop forcing them.”
Working collectively — surrounded by friends, collaborators, and kindred spirits — Rosalía insists on art as communion. Every sound, every lyric, every silence is a dialogue. “It’s more fun when it’s us,” she admits. “You bounce ideas, you collect energy — and suddenly, it becomes something bigger than you.”
At LUMEN, we recognize that spirit. Collaboration as ritual. Creativity as shared language. Becoming the best versions of ourselves — together.
Yet behind LUX’s elegance lies risk. “We’re out of budget,” she laughs, The result is minimalist in budget, brutalist in execution. LUX strips excess to reveal truth — art that bleeds emotion, even when it costs everything.
Rosalía’s path to this moment is a study in courage. She honours her flamenco roots — grateful for the tradition that taught her precision and power — but refuses its cage. “The pressure to be a perfect flamenco singer freaked me out,” Learning the rules so they might could be broken.
Now, with LUX, she stretches beyond genre — from flamenco to reggaetón to orchestral grandeur — embracing freedom as both obsession and discipline. “You stop to learn something new,” she says, “until you have enough to become the next version of yourself.”
Rosalía treats her yes like sacred currency. Once she commits, she arrives — fully, presently, spiritually. Sensitive and intuitive, her decisions are guided not by strategy but by feeling. That emotional intelligence — fierce yet vulnerable — underpins the very essence of LUX.
This is not about reinvention. It’s about revelation.
For her fans, the new sound feels both alien and divine — avant-garde pop that transcends category. For Rosalía, it’s simply truth.
“I’m at peace,” she says. “It’s all in there — the fear, the love, the light. I gave everything.”
Her lead single, “Berghain”, featuring Björk and Yves Tumor, captures the album’s soul — a multilingual hymn to collective identity. Named after Berlin’s techno temple, the song weaves German, Spanish, and English into a trance of rhythm and emotion.
The haunting choir chants, “Seine Angst ist meine Angst, Seine Wut ist meine Wut, Seine Liebe ist meine Liebe, Sein Blut ist mein Blut” — his fear is my fear, his rage is my rage, his love is my love, his blood is my blood — blurring the lines between individual and collective.
It’s a spiritual rave. A dance-floor confession. A mirror held to the soul of our fragmented age.
The Berghain video extends this mythology — Rosalía surrounded by the London Symphony, drifting through surreal vignettes where the domestic turns divine. Björk appears as a spectral muse, calling her into the forest. Yves Tumor emerges as the shadow self. It’s a fairytale of surrender, a cinematic meditation on the fear of lack and failure — inspired by the poetry of Nons — where feminine energy becomes both wound and weapon.
For LUMEN, LUX mirrors the heartbeat of our ANGELOMANIA issue — that tension between celestial purity and earthly chaos. It’s where myth meets modernity, where sacred frequencies pulse beneath the club’s strobes.
Like our era itself — fractured, fast, searching — Rosalía’s LUX invites us to slow down, to listen, to translate not only words but emotions. It is a bridge between shadow and light, intellect and instinct, structure and surrender.
And perhaps that’s the point:
In a world that talks too much and feels too little, Rosalía reminds us that silence, too, can sing.
Rosalía’s new era is not a reinvention — it’s a transcendence.