Greenstone by Emma Paki: A Timeless Gem That Still Hits Different
Alright, let’s talk about Greenstone, the 1994 album by Emma Paki. If you’re into music that blends Electronic vibes with Folk soul and a sprinkle of Hip Hop swagger, this one's for you. It’s like someone took New Zealand’s lush landscapes, mixed it with Italy’s chill Mediterranean mood, and pressed play. The genres are all over the place—Electronic, Folk, World, Country, even Dub—but somehow it works. Like, really works.
The album kicks off with the title track, “Greenstone.” Man, this song sticks with me. It’s got this hypnotic downtempo groove that feels like walking through misty hills at sunrise. Neil Finn (yeah, that Neil Finn) pulls double duty on production and guitar here, and his touch is golden. The way the acoustic guitar weaves in and out of Emma’s haunting vocals? Pure magic. You can tell this wasn’t just slapped together—it’s layered, thoughtful, and kinda spiritual. Plus, there’s something about the flute from Milton Hohaia that gives it an ancient vibe, like it’s telling stories older than time itself.
Then there’s “Greenstone (Cave Mix).” This version flips the original on its head and turns it into a dub-heavy dream. Nick Treacy steps in as engineer and producer for this remix, and he nails it. The bassline hits so deep it feels like your chest is vibrating. There’s a rawness to it, like they recorded it in an actual cave or something. Honestly, I think this might be my favorite cut from the album. Every time I hear it, I get lost in the echoey percussion and Emma’s voice floating above it all. It’s moody but still warm, if that makes sense?
One thing that stands out about Greenstone is how collaborative it feels. Between Neil Finn playing half the instruments under the sun, Max Stowers laying down some serious basslines, and Nick Launay working his mixing wizardry on the first two tracks, it’s clear everyone brought their A-game. And let’s not forget Emma herself—her voice is the glue holding everything together. She doesn’t try too hard; she lets the music breathe, which makes it feel authentic.
Released via Virgin and EMI in New Zealand and Italy, this album didn’t exactly blow up globally, but maybe that’s part of its charm. It’s niche, sure, but it’s also special. Listening to it now feels like finding a hidden treasure in a dusty record shop—you know instantly it’s worth more than its price tag.
So yeah, Greenstone isn’t perfect, but who cares? It’s real, it’s bold, and it takes risks. Honestly, I reckon Neil Finn should’ve done more stuff like this outside of Crowded House. Who knew he could pull off Mellotron AND backing vocals without sounding like he was trying too hard?
Final thought? If you ever stumble across this album, don’t hesitate. Grab it. Put it on. Let it wash over you. Oh, and fun fact—I once read somewhere that greenstone is actually a type of jade found in New Zealand. Makes me wonder…was the whole album inspired by a rock? Wouldn’t that be wild?
