What is a ‘motomami’? With this question as a frame, Rosalía widely promoted her new album on social media and it became quite a thing. The Spanish singer born in Catalonia is worldwide famous and has garnered plenty of recognition. Nevertheless it is hard not to approach Rosalía’s outrageous expression of pop drenched in Latin and Spanish influences and feel dizzy as a result. Is it by design? It seems. For starters, Motomami, her third full-length release, which is 16 tracks and 42 minutes long, uses all its time to expose its creator’s wide-reaching artistic vision. Rosalía’s versatility shouldn’t be a surprise at this point, but her third full length record showcases how ambitious she actually is.

Since releasing her award-winning, critically-acclaimed album El Mal Querer in 2018, the spanish singer that made her name on an innovative pop songcraft rooted on her country’s folk music, has been ubiquitious. She has collaborations with the biggest names in reggaeton, soulful meloncholic James Blake, electronic extraordinaire Arca and even Billie Eilish. Motomami inevitably brings to the table songs that tread those same waters and some are dramatically influenced by these connections. This is not a bad thing.

First and foremost is the lead single ‘La Fama’, a bachata collaboration with mega-pop star The Weeknd. Setting aside the fact that Abel Tesfaye is heard comfortable in this highly relevant latin rhythm (personally, not a fan) and speaking Spanish (!), this particular feature is sure to be groundbreaking especially considering that Tesfaye just released one of his most accomplished records, Dawn FM in January. When it comes to big collabs this is the only example in Motomami, and it is the only track of this rhythmical nature. Its lyrics that describe how fame could be treacherous and ruin a person’s relationships are engaging enough to give the song an edge.

The other peak of commercial appeal on Motomami is ‘Chicken Teriyaki’. An unescapable and catchy reggeaton rhythm frames a track that sees Rosalía catering to the Tiktok phenomenon. It is a quintessential ‘Gen-Z’ song and I predict its incessant playing throughout the year in every major output. It is also, relatively, one of the weakest songs on the record despite its party-ready concept. I’m really not into how she transforms her voice in this kind of songs. Just like in her gigantic single with Colombian singer J Balvin, ‘Con Altura’, she courts this kind of rap-leaning delivery and it seems she’s trying to make a fairly fake Central or Latin-American accent. Which brings me to what is still her greatest strength, in this writer’s opinion: her voice.

Her incomparable taming of varied instrumentation, production techniques and popular genres aside, Rosalía’s voice still takes center stage when she harnesses its power. Our first taste of this on Motomami is ‘Bulerías’. A profound Flamenco cut with scant instrumentation in which she speaks to her detractors, claiming that she is the same whether famous or rich and she will keep singing for her own sake. Then comes ‘Hentai’, one of the major highlights of the record. A sweet and poignant ballad, Rosalía expresses her attraction and curiously, does directly references the erotic by-product of Japanese manga and anime. Its minimal production and sudden electronic bursts make it a compelling song.

The singer again reaches this level of overwhelming balladry in ‘G3-N15’, dedicated to her nephew who she’s been separated of because of her busy life. It closes with a recording of a message Rosalía’s grandmother send her during the COVID-19 quarantine, spoken in Catalan. In closer ‘Sakura’ she compares her time as a pop-star to the fleeting life of a cherry blossom, the track harnessing the analogy to make the most beautiful statements on the whole record. These two tracks are quite arresting in how they portray a more personal look into Rosalía’s life.

Of course, these songs are defintive highlights and a testament to the artist’s talents, but these are only some pieces of the puzzle. Opener ‘Saoko’ is a gloomy trap cut, followed by ‘Candy’ a more straightforward but still engaging track, which amazingly samples electronic auteur Burial. ‘Bizcochito’ is a fun and punchy song with some quirky vocal harmonies; later on ‘Diablo’ combines a subdued reggaeton rhythm with Rosalías high-reaching voice, only to break into a passage of ethereal vocals courtesy of James Blake. ‘CUUUUuuuuuute’ is an unbalancing cyberpunk track and on the peculiar ‘Abcdefg’ Rosalía recites words with every letter of the alphabet. The title track is surprisingly the shortest song on the album. It’s deep bass line and hip-hop-leaning beat make it memorable, but it would’ve been great for it to stay a little while longer.

Motomami is all over the place. For me, there’s a major downside to this: every fan, whether casual or long-time, will choose their pivots, those songs they will play frequently. However, they will also choose a few tracks they will everytime skip or ignore. Mind you, I don’t consider any track here to be bad, but the haphazardness of this album could be a symptom of the fleeting nature of several tracks. Nevertheless, the relative lack of cohesiveness is offset by Rosalía’s challenging experimentation and unapologetic intention to sometimes just have fun. People will have much to say about it, but that’s probably also by design. What makes the record exciting and interesting is how Rosalía sounds fully in control of every musical style presented and every production decision made throughout the record, something that makes her seem peerless at this point. I guess, that’s what a Motomami is.