Once again, I have found myself at a week where I don’t know what to review. For me personally, there was nothing that stood out and grabbed me. It’s one of the blessings of this column, forcing me to look at entertainment that is outside of my comfort zone and hopefully expand my tastes. This is one of those weeks where it felt like things were going in that direction, serving as my introduction to Emmy the Great with an album that had this perplexing hook. It’s an album in which the Chinese-American artist contemplates life between her two homes. Written over two weeks and done two years ago, it’s intriguing to wonder why she waited so long to release it. Even then, through some serendipity for this column, I’m a bit thankful.
To be candid, I inadvertently was introduced to Emmy the Great five years ago and didn’t know it. Back when Gimlet was starting their podcast network, they had this amazing show hosted by Starlee Kine called Mystery Show in which she did the outro music. Apparently, she also did the music for the movie Austeland (2013) and had various other roles where I may have secretly known her. Still, for all intents and purposes, “April / 月音” is where things began, allowing me to discover an acclaimed artist doing some of her finest work. What I discovered was a breathtaking, sweet album about identity and family that captivated me over the 10 songs, making me eager to learn more about her great career.
Before I go further, I must ask for some forgiveness. Since the album is new and the lyrics aren’t available yet on Genius, I am unable to comprehend what the Chinese passages are saying. While I think they are essential to this overall narrative, building a bridge between her two identities, I am unable to see it as more than beautiful harmonies that give this album such a tender endurance. If anyone has access to the lyrics, I would be curious to know how this tapestry was woven and how each lyrical shift is symbolic of something greater than I currently recognize.
An important thing to understand is how Emmy the Great chooses to represent her identity not only in lyrics but also in the overall presentation. In the opener “Mid-Autumn/ 月音,” with a whisper, breaking into meditative prayer. It’s a journey going internal, reflecting on all of the decisions that follow. The orchestra builds behind her, ready to put on the show of her life. In Chinese, she presents overlapping vocals. It’s all beautiful, presenting the idea that this is a performance, one of the few universal concepts that combine the cultures. The percussions clang in harmony, preparing the listener for what’s to come. Bowls clacks, ringing out as the album transitions into the proverbial Act I, shifting from the Chinese language into English and introducing us to the character that we’ll follow for the rest of the album.
It all begins with “Writer,” presented in a different kind of folklore. The instruments are driven by an acoustic guitar, Emmy the Great singing about how she writes what she sees. She sings of days where she has writer’s block, of what inspires her, and how everything swirls inside of her. It’s invigorating, creating an understanding of what drives an artist to explore certain topics and observe. There’s a whimsy to it, and most of all it explains everything that follows. While she hasn’t lived in Hong Kong since she was a tween, there is a piece of her that is drawn to understanding these aspects of herself. As every good writer would, she is curious to go forward, and it’s here that the sound slowly begins to shift from the folk guitar into something blending of the two.
It becomes clear when “Dandelions/Liminal” decides to open with a thudding percussion, an electronic piano playing underneath as she recalls a joyful youth. Upon introducing Emmy the Great in her mature state, this is a chance to build the story from early on, giving you this upbeat, indie rock flavor that continues to reflect her American influence. As the title would suggest, there is this need to be like dandelions and scatter her culture all over the place, planting around the globe. In this case, it’s her move to America, still ripe with this optimism and belief that everything will be okay. The harmonies are sweet and the lyrics pop with personality, making you understand the adventure at hand, reflecting the duality within her over these three songs. As she sings “We’ve lost touch with Mother Nature/It reminds me that I need to call my mother, too.”
In a literal sense, “Chang-E” begins to reflect the start of her journey. She begins, accompanied by classical piano a journey up to the temple, doubting herself for being too literal. It’s where she can begin to understand herself, and the entry point into the Hong Kong section. In the music video, she recalls Chinese folklore, drawing from images as a man and woman search for each other, paralleling her own journey into understanding her past. As harmonies arrive, more traditional Chinese instruments appear, like saws that lull the listener into this new perspective. Even if they're recognizable, they're still a bit distant. The imagery becomes more natural, seeking something from the sky and Earth below her. She has escaped the 21st-century imprisonment of technology and is entering something awe-inspiring in the spirituality.
The next song opens with a cute little example of cultural division. It starts with her claiming to have put all of her thoughts into a phone only to watch it die. As she talks to her friend, dressed as a Monk, she references Georgia O’Keeffe, and he gives her a keef. These small misunderstandings reflect her own divide, also reflective in how the instruments harmoniously clash between guitars and Chinese instrumentations, the harmonies remain overwhelming, as the a-ha moment when things click with these beautiful, splendiferous melodies. It’s a song of discomfort, but also one that shows how acceptance comes slowly, building from looking out a window into being part of the culture that you’re looking at.
The best moment on the entire album comes in what happens next. In “Okinawa/Ubud,” Emmy the Great recalls a personal journey. Feeling disconnected from those around her, having no baby or legacy to show, she goes in search of one that slowly takes her further and further into the mystery. As she talks to townspeople, she is lead down a path that eventually takes her to a mystical place. It’s the highlight of her skills as a storyteller, making every step feel like more than a mundane plot progression. Everything is rich with symbolism, making you curious to know what happens next.
Those who are patient will be rewarded with an explosion of zen that develops after the third minute, finding some truth revealed. It’s something felt deep in the listener’s soul, realizing that things have begun to turn around. Emmy the Great finally has found some piece of her identity that clicks, and the harmonies finally build like a wave over her, the instruments are overwhelming, overpowering the lyrics and making you understand on an instinctual level how this ties to her identities. From a composition standpoint, this is where everything makes the most sense, the centerpiece on “April / 月音” that gives everything before and since purpose.
Everything after will hold some deeper truth to her identity. Whereas she is in search of it before, she is going to use it in order to greater appreciate Hong Kong and her Chinese identity. It’s where the instruments become fuller. This is the part of the story where everything feels most fulfilled. “Your Hallucinations” is her dealing with philosophies, coming to terms with those who can’t see what is great about the world around her. When she confronts “Mary” on the next song over palm reading, she tells the woman that everything is going to be okay. There is an optimism, a belief for the first time that there’s something centered and balanced in her life.
Then, the journey home settles in as she questions her own newfound ideas in relation to her homeland. In “Hollywood Road/April,” she begins to understand how outsiders see this world. The instruments remain ethereal at first, reflecting her spirituality as something secure in her. Even then, she pulls from American jaunty piano melodies, not unlike in “Dandelions,” reflecting how everything has come to define her, reflecting on her own dream as a writer and need to make something significant. By the closer “Heart Sutra,” there is an acceptance of love, detailing how she has found peace. There's passages sung in Chinese over guitar, reflecting how the two worlds have combined.
Overall this is a great exploration of one artist coming to terms with her personal life. It was specifically written when she visited her parents, and it becomes clear that this is in some ways a recognition of how she finally understands, if just a little, what their perspectives must be like. There is something breathtaking about taking the listener on this journey, making them understand how the personal can be made universal. It’s evident on tracks like “Okinawa/Ubud” where the instrumentations subtly blend together, where the lyrics find her journey reaching a satisfying revelation.
As a piece of theater, it’s marvelous and makes you understand how two cultures can be just as impactful in her life. Emmy the Great has claimed that she loved Hong Kong as a child and that is why she moved back. However, she eventually moved to The U.K. when things began to prove more troublesome, realizing that it was a hierarchical society. Still, there is a part of her that is tied to the culture and the fondness shines through on the album. It’s a beautiful experience and one whose cleverness is abundant.
As far as introductions to Emmy the Great goes, I am thankful that it was so full of cleverness and reflective of an artist who isn’t only writing great songs, but telling stories that are essential, diverse in nature in ways that entertain. While this is theater, it’s the work of a writer finally understanding herself by going internal in an external form. I can only hope that the rest of her career is this full of interesting ideas, finding inspiration from odd corners of the world and leading to crescendos that fill me with awe as I listen. For now, I look forward to listening again, understanding something more about what she’s saying, and realizing how much more clever it is than I initially gave it credit for.
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