Grounded and propelled by the boom and tick of a lazy yet indefatigable old-school drum machine, albeit augmented by occasional percussive crash,rattle and stick of a genuinely human kind, Anemones are all deep throb, jangled buzz, ambient drone, shiftless mumbling and, perhaps mostimportantly, rolling waves of reverberation so pronounced and significant as to be structurally necessary. Collected and combined, these elements make a warm, oceanic, somewhat totalizing music that operates inwardly, directed towards the uniquely fertile, semi-liquid quasi-agriculture of the mind. Activated this way, mind as such is here suspended, ala Descartes, as a kind epiphenomenal hazy feeling, a ghost between the ears. Both in and out of the body, this half-consciousness invokes a persistent, low-key dream-like psychedelic break in which the normal world itself becomes hypnotically elusive and mysterious, a pleasantly dislocating transformation enhanced by Anemones' minimalist, somewhat lock-groove languorousness and nonchalantly sardonic theatricality. But although often performatively 'druggy' in character, Anemones' music isn't therefore 'about drugs' in the sense of being 'about being made by means of drugs' or even 'about being made for or on behalf of drugs', as if simply copying such important stylistic and conceptual precursors as the Velvet Underground, Suicide, Spacemen 3 and the Jesus and Mary Chain. Rather, Anemones produce a kind of 'post drug' music, which here refers to a state of 'after-ness' and not prudish abstention or dumbbell reform. In fact this is a specific aesthetic strategy: after the drugs and drinks are long done and gone, sound itself remains the psychotropic trigger par excellence. Hence, altering perception, Anemones aim to turn listeners on ears first.