On her twelfth studio album, it’s reasonable to ask what Mexican singer-songwriter Natalia Lafourcade has left to accomplish— her’s in a storied career, reaching between bossa-nova, pop, rock, folk and an eclectic collection of other sounds and genres. In 2025, the self-imposed challenges seem more staggering than ever, as new record ‘Cancionera’ was recorded, in its entirety, in a single take. Though that feat is certainly impressive, it’s really the album’s infectious songwriting, diverse instrumentation and heartwarming atmospheres that have us gushing over this delightful collection of tunes.

The recording session for this album must have been a logistical nightmare: ‘Cancionera’ is chock full of intriguing sound inclusions, all of which add to the warm, lush atmosphere that the record hopes to inhabit. Lafourcade pays homage to all-manner of traditional folk and latin music, using her instrumentation to craft a distinctly nostalgic feeling. The opening ‘Apertura Cancionera’ is a standout, even as part of a consistently wonderful track list— the interplay between somber pianos, withdrawn strings, cautious percussion and steady bass lines makes this a mysterious, inviting introduction to the record, opening the door to a world of musical intrigue. It’s not a mood the record indulges in though: the following title track introduces more acoustic guitars and floating woodwinds alongside Lafourcade’s own soulful vocal chops, crafting a delicate, romantic mood that just begs to be paired with champagne and a beautiful sunset.

For our money, ‘Cancionera’ shines brightest in its softer moments: Lafourcade’s singing deserves all the praise in the world for its emotiveness and rich texture, and her croonings throughout much of the record are simply divine. ‘Luna Creciente’ centres itself around a stripped-back collection of guitar plucks, bass notes and percussive flourishes, submerging you into this mystical ode to the moon— the track feels dark, yet never loses its tender, reassuring grip on the listener. A similarly complex mood is created by the scathing remarks of ‘Mascaritas de Cristal,’ which sees rich string inclusions elevating an otherwise sparse arrangement. The album’s title of ‘Storybook’ is not without cause: there’s a sense of narrative momentum that rings out throughout the record, immersing you into a variety of adorable vignettes and musical atmospheres.

An atmosphere so delicate is, of course, difficult to maintain, and ‘Cancionera’ can falter when its simpler moments fail to translate into meaningful mood pieces: given the one-take nature of the record, Lafourcade might have made the job a little easier by trimming some of these less interesting passages. Though the cover of ‘La Bruja’ that comes towards the album’s end is a heartwarming tribute, we’d have a hard time arguing that the cut doesn’t bring things to a screeching halt: the six-minute cut fills itself only with an acoustic guitars, lead vocals and the irritating sound of a chirping cricket, winding on in an overly lethargic fashion. ‘Como Quisiera Quererte’ suffers similarly, even if the vocal chemistry between Lafourcade and Aguilar is quite lovely. When the theatrical bent of ‘Cancionera’ slips, some moments wind up feeling a little tedious— honestly, the album would probably feel a little more electrifying if a minute or two were shaved off a fair few of these cuts.

Accusations of tedium grow much more disconnected when considering the record’s more energetic moments: ‘Cancionera’ is a shockingly explosive listen at times, leaning firmly into influences from bossa-nova and latin music. In truth, the two sides of the record clash in a somewhat uncomfortable manner, lending the album a slightly confused, jumbled tone at times. Within these moments though, Lafourcade nonetheless pulls off an exciting homage to Mexican culture, bouncing its way through a host of thrilling jams. ‘Cocos en la Playa’ races through moments of layered vocals, steel drums and whimsical woodwinds, bringing a pure-hearted joy into the fold. Performers can be heard cheering and singing along throughout the album, adding to the celebratory nature of a cut like ‘El Palomo y La Negra’— ‘Cancionera’ may be a little off-kilter in places, but it’s amazing just how much of the record’s lengthy runtime is used effectively.

Natalia Lafourcade’s 12th album breaks its own promise, in a way— the record’s intriguing cover and somber opening sets the listener up for melancholic soundscapes that don’t appear as frequently as you’d think. We can hardly be upset when the result is this evocative though: truly, listen to the adorable ‘El Coconito’ or the impassioned instrumental closer ‘Lágrimas Cancioneras’ and tell us they don’t stir something in you. ‘Cancionera’ is a soulful record, full of comfy textures and delightful vocal performances, and it’s an unconventional avenue well worth exploring.