Tom Dunne: Rosalia has given me the biggest musical jolt since I first heard Bohemian Rhapsody  

Catalan singer Rosalia has given us an incredible album in Lux 

 Rosalia is creating quite the stir with her new album, Lux. (Photo by ANGELA WEISS / AFP)  

I haven’t been this surprised by a musical interlude since the opera bit arrived in Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody some time back at the dawn of time. My mother was feeding me at the time, so I hadn’t a great view. But I recall the sheer audacity.

Your first memory of Bo Rap carbon dates you decisively. It’s best not to admit that you can actually remember it on Top of the Pops in 1975. But if you do, you are Gen X / Boomer. If you came in on it at Wayne’s World (1992) you are an older Millennial. If it was the 2018 biopic you are Gen Z. It’s that easy.

But regardless, the moment you hear Freddy say, “I see a little silhouetto of a man, Scaramouche, Scaramouche will you do the Fandango?” the Earth shifts on its axis. Music, especially that on Top of the Pops in the 1970s, was not supposed to make you wonder “What’s in these cornflakes?” I thought I would never be that surprised again. But here we are, 50 Armistice Days and five presidents later and my jaw in on the floor again. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rosalia and Lux, the most surprising, ambitious, bat-shit crazy album, since, well, you know.

Rosalia, for those who don’t follow the Latin-American charts, is a force of nature. A Catalan, born in 1992 she is currently bringing Spain to a standstill, her new album earning praise from the prime minister, legions of fans, and em, a bishop.

Said bishop has written an open letter in a diocesan bulletin praising Rosalia and declaring that “Your creation is a pilgrimage towards transcendence”. But I suppose he hasn’t heard many other albums inspired by The Lives of the Saints. There is talk of it being the first album to challenge “Franco’s misguided religiosity”.

Rosalia became fascinated by Spanish folk music at a very early age to the point where by 17 she had to take a year off singing due to damage caused by “intense singing practise”. She recovered and by 20 was a Flamenco teacher and singing coach.

At 24 she moved to California and signed to Universal Music. An album of reworked Flamenco classics followed in 2017 but incredibly her breakthrough, 2018’s El Mal Querer, was written and recorded - in a bedroom at her own expense - as project work for her degree. It left her penniless.

It was an experimental album in part inspired by a 13th century Occitan text, but it still caught the attention of Kourtney Kardashian and Dua Lipa. The Guardian described it as “the calling card of a unique new talent.” Collabs and hits followed with The Weeknd, Billie Eilish, Bad Bunny and Travis Scott.

Motomami followed in 2022. It became the best reviewed and most discussed album that year on Metacritic. There were numerous Latin Grammy Awards wins, she got her own flavour of Coca-Cola, played Coachella, Lollapalooza and Primavera and was signed by Shakira’s manager.

None of this prepares you for Lux. Lux is Avant Garde classical pop arranged in four movements and sung in 13 languages. It is an operatic lament for a new generation featuring the London Symphony Orchestra, Catalan choirs, Pharrell, Bjork and the Pulitzer Prize-winning arranger Caroline Shaw.

All of that makes it sound like it might be hard work, an album you need to study with ChatGPT in one hand and a notebook in the other. It isn’t. It leaves Earth, visits Heaven and returns wiser and more focused with the kind of ease you’d associate with Messi in the penalty area.

It pulls all these diverse parts together – the LSO, Bjork, Catalan Choirs, The Lives of the Saints – and yet still leaves you in no doubt that somewhere in that mix there is a boyfriend getting skewered. She’s like a nuclear version of Taylor.

But what is it? The consensus seems to be leaning towards this being “classical pop”. Pitchfork is of the view that pop’s map has been redrawn. Watching the video for the single Bergheim I wouldn’t disagree. Bjork is the most normal thing in it, and you don’t say that very often.

Comparisons range from Joanna Newsom to Kate Bush, Weyes Blood, Bjork and even, at least in terms of ambition, Bowie. I don’t see any of that. This is Rosalia, end of. To which I can only add “thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening, me” as I first observed, in, em, Wayne’s World.