Album Review: Catshag22 Prague by Emdy Cirqular – A Genre-Bending Odyssey
Released in 2009 under Gracetone Recordings, Catshag22 Prague by Emdy Cirqular is one of those albums that makes you question everything you thought you knew about music. Merging classical, electronic, and jazz with an experimental twist, this Greek artist crafts a soundscape that feels both alien and deeply familiar. The album’s credits are solid too—artwork by Constantinos Chaidalis gives it a visual edge, while mastering guru Anders Peterson ensures the audio quality is crisp as heck.
The record only has two tracks: “Catshag22” and “Prague.” At first glance, it might seem sparse, but trust me, there’s enough depth here to keep you hooked for hours. Let’s dive into what makes these tracks stick.
First up, “Catshag22.” This piece kicks off with a haunting blend of strings and glitchy electronics, creating a tension that never quite resolves. It’s like walking through a foggy forest at night—you know something’s out there, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. What stands out is how Emdy layers the instrumentation. There’s a moment midway where a saxophone solo sneaks in, almost like it wandered in from another dimension. You don’t expect it, but once it hits, you realize it was exactly what the track needed. I remember this track because it doesn’t just play; it unfolds, leaving little breadcrumbs of sound for listeners to follow.
Then there’s “Prague,” which takes things in a completely different direction. If “Catshag22” is eerie and mysterious, “Prague” is warm and inviting, though still unpredictable. It starts with soft piano notes before morphing into a pulsating rhythm driven by synths and brushed drums. The jazz influence shines brightest here, especially when the basslines kick in—they’re groovy yet understated, adding a human touch to an otherwise futuristic vibe. For some reason, this track reminds me of late-night conversations over coffee, even though I’ve no idea why. Maybe it’s the way the melodies linger, refusing to leave your head long after the song ends.
What strikes me most about Catshag22 Prague is its refusal to conform. Genres? Styles? Forget ‘em. Emdy Cirqular seems more interested in exploring what happens when rules go out the window. And honestly, it works. Sure, not every moment lands perfectly—it’s experimental, so yeah, parts feel raw or unfinished—but isn’t that kinda the point?
In the end, this album leaves you thinking. Like, who decided music needs boundaries anyway? Oh, and fun fact: listening to this made me crave baklava. No clue why. Maybe Greece just has that effect on people. Whatever the case, if you’re into music that challenges as much as it entertains, give Catshag22 Prague a spin. Just don’t blame me if it messes with your brain.
