Initially, Lux could seem more like a challenging academic challenge than a new popular music project from an artist whose last hit featured an international pop icon. Broken into 4 separate parts and voiced in 13 tongues, we have a breathtaking orchestral-influenced album exploring female mystique, religious transcendence, and bodily change, often by way of the lens of various women saints. The dissolution of a romance—a topic handled with raw honesty elsewhere—soars heavenward on this record, supported by the constant sound of a major symphony orchestra and work from a Pulitzer-winning songwriter among an extensive list of contributors. Its sheer daring alone renders the efforts of contemporary pop stars appear quite small.
Rising Above Scholarly Exercise
The fact that Lux succeeds in avoid dry academic chin-stroking is almost miraculous, and full credit belonging to the artist. Although it's not the first time album to blend the past with modern styles, the ambitions feel much higher here, and the balancing act more pronounced. The element that really raises her fourth album, beyond its complex tunes, dense compositions, and inherent theatricality, is a core sense of playfulness. Similar to the legendary artist at her height, there is a wondrous sense to the vocalist's singing that pulls you into its whirlwind. Even when she's tearing hearts in two, the listener still want to stay right there through the ride.
A Signature Moment of Joy
That playful spirit comes forth brightly during the stirring piano-led song about Saint Clare. It bathes in a sorrowful melancholy for several minutes. Suddenly, everything drops silent, and there's a gleeful laugh followed by a declaration before a comically exaggerated orchestral surge crashes down like cartoonish force. The track then segues to the wild track featuring galloping orchestration, a powerful choir, and a surprise appearance from none other than Björk.
"The charm with Lux lies in the listener never exactly know—or even want to know—where it is going next."
Almost each track finishes in a totally distinct point than how it began. A track examines the fleeting trappings of fame over a featherlight symphony only to collapsing in digital cacophony. Elsewhere, a cut that recalls the artist's previous trap-infused work begins off dark and sinister, with prowling beats, until fluttering traditional handclaps and an angelic choir enter to soften its rough corners.
The Balance Between Art and Accessibility
Another crucial achievement of Lux is straddling the gap of radical innovation and mainstream appeal. It is little coincidence that it has become the artist's first work to break into the upper reaches of major markets: at its core a collection of truly catchy pop songs. One track sung entirely in the English language builds on a refrain that seems to collect more and more infectious melodies as it spirals skyward. This trick gets repeated by another powerful ballad that grows and contracts, intertwining layered melodies like a complex tapestry.
- A waltz-like number charms with its jaunty, theatrical drama and an anthemic hook.
- In its words, it shares the cultural impact of contemporary breakup anthems, lambasting a former partner described as an "psychological terrorist".
- Across these tracks, the vocals have a sharp edge, akin to a storybook character hiding a knife: "Gold medal in acting like a scoundrel / You have won the trophy of letdown."
An Opulent Banquet for the Ears
This album is popular music on a grand scale, an ambitious grasp for high artistry in an era of looming artificial blankness. It rejects solipsism for glorious transcendence, crafting an over-the-top spectacle that skillfully controls its built-in ridiculousness. This is an abundant source of buried gems that requires patience to fully mine but never seem like hard work. While other major pop albums of the year seemed like feasting on scraps, this record offers a lavish banquet at which the characters around it, some tipsy on holy wine, flit from discussions about historical saints, the profound sensation of heartbreaking sadness, and shared stories about useless men. In essence, it's a modern-day theatrical production from music's most restlessly creative practitioner.
