I listened (again and again) to the forthcoming album of the dude with the hat from Morocco and that guy who’s carrying hidden places in his name. The lyrics are – in parts – surreal – a wild joy is at work, and darkness a close friend, and nearly every song is full of cars and stars, and dreams and demons. The last song is – firing on all cylinders – a subversive form of nostalgia, a bitter-sweet lullaby for the end of the world.