What We Need: How Rosalia Helped Me Reclaim My Own Work

Rosalia

I just watched Popcast from The New York Times, featuring Rosalia, titled:

“Is Rosalia the Most Ambitious Pop Star on Earth?”

And within moments, I was undone.

Moved.

Inspired.

The episode opens with (a snippet to a later discussion regarding her as a popstar) Rosalia is reflecting on a comment from her sister, one she doesn’t fully agree with. She shares her sister’s thoughts:

“Your music is not pop. You are.”

The hosts nod in agreement, but Rosalia doesn’t let it land without a gentle interruption:

“I disagree. I want to think that my music is pop. There has to exist another way of making pop. Björk proved it. Kate Bush proved it. I need to believe that what I’m doing is pop—because otherwise, I don’t think I’m succeeding.”

From the very first moments, she’s not making a case for validation, she’s making one for vision.

She continues: artists who have existed left-of-center have still found their way into the mainstream. So why shouldn’t she be afforded the same space? Why shouldn’t her sound, different as it is, be considered pop too?

I loved every second of this!

Just before watching the episode, I had listened/watched her new song “Berghain” featuring Björk and Yves Tumor. And to be honest, it shattered my expectations in the best way. The song… the experience… it cracked something open.

Visually.

Sonically.

Intellectually.

Rosalia is a world-builder. A painter of sound. A conceptualist of the highest order. Everything she touches is crafted with intention, intelligence, and emotional precision.

When asked about the fear of transformation on this new project, she responds (paraphrased):

“If I’m changing, then my music has to change. The sounds of my past… they belong to that version of me.”

She’s not rejecting her earlier work, but she refuses to be confined by it. She’s pushing toward new ways of making music.

New ways of telling truth.

New ways of being.

Then she drops a line that pierced me:

“My favorite artists aren’t the ones who give you what you want… but the ones who give you what you need.”

Whew.

That’s the bar.

That’s the assignment.

That’s the calling.

When asked if she’s concerned about alienating her audience, especially since her new project is sung in 13 different languages, she answers, without hesitation:

“I belong to the world. I don’t belong to myself. So why wouldn’t I learn another language?”

And I swear… that was the most beautiful answer to such a question.

It cracked me open.

That global mindset. That selfless sense of service to the art. That is what makes her not just an artist, but a portal.

Rosalia is expanding what pop can be. Stretching what we call “mainstream.” And reminding us, if the work is honest, and bold, and full of heart, then it belongs.

Rosalia isn’t just pop. She’s the proof that pop doesn’t have to be formula.

It can be fearless. (Later I’ll jump into a discussion that A-natural and I had regarding fearless artistry)

And I needed that reminder.

As I rework my Warrior project, creating snippet videos and potentially plotting a re-release because I didn’t give it the love it deserved, I find myself remembering one of my favorite Kanye quotes: “Make them believe.”

This project of mine is different from my norm and it should be.

It’s experimental.

It’s honest.

It makes the listener feel, if they dare to actually listen.

It challenges structure.

It dares new soundscapes.

It leans into emotion and insight.

And yeah, because of all that, I got scared. I let behind-the-scenes struggles shake me. I started to believe it wouldn’t “translate.”

But…

FUCK THAT.

This is my baby.

You’re gonna get this music.

And it’s going to make you feel.

This project gave me freedom, and I’m staying there.

So, thank you, Rosalia.

For your bravery. For your disruption. For giving us not what we want, but what we need.

And reminding me of why I started this adventure. Besos