Heard about Andrew W.K.’s new album (allegedly we’re calling this jazz-noir) in, of all places, a marketing email from Blackwing. Darcy Smyth describes it perfectly:

This is lounge music for a room that might not exist, all smoke and red curtains, the kind of piano that sounds like it’s remembering something it can’t quite say. Total Twin Peaks Roadhouse energy, like Lynch left the lights on and wandered off.

Been in rotation for days now.