ROSALIA – LUX: REVIEW

ROSALIA

Lux (Sony)

THIS ALBUM IS NUTS. Properly, completely, outrageously, wonderfully nuts.

It goes to places, so many places, places that are unlikely to have ever been thought of in the same suburb let alone the same mind before. There’s drama, beatific moments and spiky balls that cut; religious intensity, dance and abandonment; florid waves, songs that are cursed with love, and others that want nothing more than to hurt hard. Instrumentally and sonically it is both analogue and digital, acoustic and electronic, and arrangements are not shy of space and implication any more than they are sections tumbling over each other like a collapsing building.

And by the way it is mostly in Spanish, though as Rosalia revels in immersing herself in darkness, joy and fear, frolics and stern gazes, understanding seems never to be an issue.

You can spend all your time working out who to add to the list of things this reminds you of or draws from or simply exists alongside, and the far from comprehensive list includes Robyn, Italian pop star of the ‘60s, Mina, flamenco, Tyler The Creator, Beyonce, European folk, opera, North African ballads, Bjork, 19^th century symphonic works and 20^th century composition, and Ariana Grande.

What the  …?

It is less that an album released on a major label, or for that matter indie record, shouldn’t/couldn’t exist in this form, and more that I am still trying to work out how it exists at all. But I am so glad it does as the sense of adventure here is thrilling and so rare at any time let alone in a super safe, algorithm-defined musical environment.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htQBS2Ikz6c

Here’s the thing though, yes there is an element of musical stunt casting that can appeal because it’s not like anything else. So much so that it can obscure failings in fundamentals. And this is maybe particularly so for people who listen to a lot of music and crave variety. Fair cop. But really, Lux isn’t just an exercise in how much/how many and weirdos clocking up nerd highlights.

Rosalia Vila Tobella’s writing and production is jaw dropping so that in the one minute and 44 seconds of De Madruga, a whole world of dervishes and road trains is built and decorated as you’re taking a few breaths, while Porcelana brings two films – one in south LA, the other in the red plains outside Toledo – to fully integrated life. They’re hardly alone either.

Mio Cristo Piange Diamanti is light and lithe as it opens in front parlour closeness and embraces a mix of chanson and Spanish traditions before soaring away. In another songs a thickening sound pressingly engulfs until an explosion must come, only to drop away into nothing at all, at which point Rosalia climbs her way out and begins to march across a field accompanied by a prancing violin that stays on the periphery as she sprints into a storm. In Berghain an operatic chorus rides an orchestra which arrives in a fleet of tanks led by Rosalia-as-Valkyrie, but nothing ever overwhelms, and the fact that the actual Bjork appears midway through for a flutter, only to give way to the brittle aggression of rapper Yves Tumor, is like some lightly salted icing on a rich cake.

Clearly this isn’t going to an album for everyone. There will be some who assume it will be a mess or a chore, and some for whom that is exactly what it feels like: too many notes! But the idea that an album should be for everyone is silly anyway, don’t you think? I mean there are people out there who want to hear Morgan Evans hog-tie and cover in molasses Paul Kelly’s How To Make Gravy, and I can’t be having with that shit.

But hey, good luck to you and the imaginary horse you rode in on if that jangles your spurs. I’ll be over here spinning Divinize with its rapid-fire low Icelandic-meets-African drums, Rosalia’s breathy urgency, and strings demanding to be let in before the cold sets in. Properly, wonderfully nuts.

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