12 Songs, 1 Hour 1 Minute

EDITORS’ NOTES

There’s really no point in overanalyzing Emeralds’ latest album. Not that it’s a laid-back listen or lacking concrete ideas. It’s quite the opposite, actually — a thoroughly engaging tour of everything that’s right about Kraut-y electronic music. And by that we mean deeply meditative dream sequences like the crystalized synths and contemplative chords of “Goes By,” the misty melodies and speaker-engulfing bubble-bath beats of “Genetic,” and the twilight techno leads of the title track, which unfolds like a 12-minute struggle between Klaus Schulze and the noise cadets Emeralds often plays shows with. Considering how many releases predate this one — about 40 CDRs, cassettes and proper CD/LP pressings in four years — it goes without saying that this is one of the Cleveland trio’s most mesmerizing efforts yet, right down to the guitar/laser canon duets of “Candy Shoppe” and the persistent drone tones of “Shade.” Now if only it didn't make us want to lie down and stare at the ceiling every time we hit play . . . 

EDITORS’ NOTES

There’s really no point in overanalyzing Emeralds’ latest album. Not that it’s a laid-back listen or lacking concrete ideas. It’s quite the opposite, actually — a thoroughly engaging tour of everything that’s right about Kraut-y electronic music. And by that we mean deeply meditative dream sequences like the crystalized synths and contemplative chords of “Goes By,” the misty melodies and speaker-engulfing bubble-bath beats of “Genetic,” and the twilight techno leads of the title track, which unfolds like a 12-minute struggle between Klaus Schulze and the noise cadets Emeralds often plays shows with. Considering how many releases predate this one — about 40 CDRs, cassettes and proper CD/LP pressings in four years — it goes without saying that this is one of the Cleveland trio’s most mesmerizing efforts yet, right down to the guitar/laser canon duets of “Candy Shoppe” and the persistent drone tones of “Shade.” Now if only it didn't make us want to lie down and stare at the ceiling every time we hit play . . . 

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