WEA
New Age, 1988

Back in the late ‘80s, Enya was mostly known to people who had an affinity for obscure Celtic music and ethereal vibes.

Then came Watermark, where she promptly ascended from niche artist to global enigma, leaving behind only a trail of mist, reverb, and Gregorian-adjacent chanting. This was the album that launched her into the stratosphere, where she has presumably been floating ever since.

Watermark was created with full creative freedom, which meant Enya, along with producer Nicky Ryan and lyricist Roma Ryan, got to do whatever the heck they wanted. What they wanted, apparently, was to blend angelic whispers, lush synth layers, and the musical equivalent of a Celtic fairy kingdom at dawn. The result is a New Age classic—or, as Enya herself might say, not a New Age album, thank you very much.

Yes, Orinoco Flow is the big breakout here. Yes, it is catchy. Yes, it sounds like a pirate crew chanting their way through an enchanted mist. But the real MVP is Storms in Africa. This song is pure epic. You hear it, and suddenly you’re standing on the Serengeti, staring at a thundercloud while your hair billows dramatically. Then there’s The Longships, a song that somehow convinces you that you, too, are a Viking setting sail toward destiny.

Honestly, though does it even matter what the songs are called? This album works best as one long, reverb-soaked fever dream where you either ascend to inner peace or mentally check out after track one.

Here’s where the brouhaha begins. Because you see, if you get Enya, Watermark is a transcendent experience, a 39-minute spa day for the soul. If you don’t get Enya, it’s just some woman going “Ahh-ahh-ahh! Ooh-ooh-ooh!” over the same three chords while you wonder if your life choices have led you to an elevator in a fancy hotel.

To be fair, both sides have a point. The album’s softness and lack of dynamic shifts mean that if you’re not feeling it on track one, you’re probably not going to have a sudden revelation by track ten. But for those who vibe with it, Watermark is a cozy, dreamy, float-away-on-a-cloud experience.

In other words, this is the album that solidified Enya as the New Age artist for normies and the elevator muzak producer for her detractors.

As someone who gets it, I say: it’s lovely, meditative, and perfect for winding down after a long day. Or, you know, gently dozing off while feeling vaguely like a Celtic princess.

Either way, no hard feelings if you disagree, as Enya’s music is, ironically, one of the most divisive forces in the universe of zen.