Greenland's centerpiece is "Sidi Ifni," a trance-inducing half-raga/half-blues with an epic widescreen feel courtesy of thick organ swirls, acres of reverb guitar, and a blissfully disorienting crescendo midway through. Lowery wanders on a six-minute journey through the empty alleys, deserted souks, and abandoned consulates of a crumbling seaside town that was the last outpost of the Spanish before Moroccan independence. Images of "lethargy, decay, and forgotten loves" match the song's hypnotic downward pull, and the closing stanza ranks with Lowery's finest writing. "I drink gin with the old expats/We are broken things/From a broken past/And it comes near/But just out of grasp/The alchemist words/That would bring her back." Taken together, the imagery and hallucinatory sonics would make "Sidi Ifni" the perfect soundtrack for one of Paul Bowles' sinister North African stories.

This very second it's The Clientele "I Can't Seem To Make You Mine" because I just got the Strange Geometry album.