Rosalía's new album, LUX, is a powerful hymn to feminist spirituality.

“Everything is constantly moving, right? I'm always moving. So why shouldn't my sound be moving with me?” This is how Rosalía describes the meaning of LUX, her new album, released today, November 7th. A highly anticipated album, preceded by the single "Berghain ," which immediately demonstrated—to fans and beyond—the Spanish singer's new artistic direction.

Rosalía is movement, as she herself declares, and so is her music. The artist listens to herself and the world, rejecting monolithism and embracing the fluid. LUX is the rejection of the static, the constant search for change. It's an album that embraces the feminine and denies the masculine.

The work's feminist intent is also evident in the almost complete absence of male voices— present only in Porcelanas and Berghain—who embody the "other": sin, intrusive thought. They bring not enrichment, but distraction; they do not elevate, but restrain, distancing from the transcendent. LUX is a hymn to feminist spirituality, a desire for redemption for all figures who have suffered in power. Its sources of inspiration demonstrate this: Rosalía has said that the album was born from the discovery of a spiritual feeling, not intended as a return to faith in a conservative sense, but as a mystical support for life, love, and relationships.

A hymn to feminine spirituality

Among the most striking tracks is "Mio Cristo piange diamanti, " written entirely in Italian: a contemporary aria that reworks bel canto to tell the story of the friendship between Saint Francis and Saint Clare. Rosalía explained how reading hagiographies was essential to the writing of the album. In addition to Francis and Clare, figures such as Joan of Arc appear, to whom she dedicates "Jeanne," which is only available in the physical and vinyl editions.

The presence of saints gives the work spiritual substance , but the literary references—as Davide Lotto states in a video dedicated to Rosalia's Lux—are equally important: Brevemente splendediamo sulla terra by Ocean Vuong, I Love Dick by Chris Kraus, and L'ombra e la grazia by Simone Weil, from which the epigraph engraved on the CD is taken: “El amor no es consuelo, es luz” (“Love is not relief, it is light”). Opening the album with a thought by Weil is already a declaration of intent: to evoke a woman who believed in spirituality, but always criticized the authority of the Church, defending the freedom of religious sentiment.

The structure of LUX

LUX is structured in four movements, constructed like a classical opera, but also as a metaphor for transformation. The first opens with Sexo, Violencia y Llantas , a sort of prologue dedicated to perdition and desire: Rosalía is suspended between the earthly world and God. In Reliquia she describes herself as a nomad, lost between Rome, Bangkok, and Mexico City. The transition occurs with Divinize , when she sings: “Sé que fui creada para divinizar” (“I know I was born to divinize”). From here she prepares to encounter the light, because she herself is light, a creative force. In Porcelanas, the duality becomes explicit: “Ego sum lux mundi” (“I am the light of the world”) alternates with “Ego sum nihil” (“I am nothing”). Rosalía is still in motion, poised between elevation and annihilation.

The second movement reflects on our relationship with the world; the third on grace and friendship with God; the final on our return. It's an album that intertwines desire, passion, faith, and power, inviting us to metamorphosis.

Earthly but symbolic objects

Even earthly objects become symbolic: in Sauvignon Blanc she sings "Tu amor será mi capital" ("Your love will be my capital") and "Mis Jimmy Choos yo las tiraré" ("I'll throw away my Jimmy Choos"). It's the abandonment of the superfluous, the renunciation of the ephemeral. As in La fama , Rosalía reflects on the transitory nature of materiality, celebrity, and success. Everything is destined to end, except love, which is light and therefore eternal.

LUX is a reflection on power. Rosalía transforms into a deity, but the boundary remains ambiguous: does she dialogue with God or does she herself become God ? Here, "God" is a metaphor for love, desire, power, and perdition. The paratext is fundamental: the second epigraph on the CD reads "Ninguna mujer pretendió nunca ser dios" (No woman ever pretended to be God), by Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya al-Qaysiyya, an Arab Muslim mystic, considered the "mother of Sufism." Her lesson was that in spiritual life, there is no inequality between the sexes. Perhaps the quote should be read this way: when a woman elevates herself to divinity, she does not seek power, but the other.

LUX aims to illuminate and open universes. Perhaps this is why Rosalía sings in fourteen languages: not to create Babylonian confusion, but to expand communication possibilities, to reach everyone—even those living on the margins of the world.

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