Some albums don’t so much arrive as materialise – like a wisp of cigarette smoke caught in a streetlamp’s beam after rain. Bohren & der Club of Gore’s Sunset Mission (2000) is one of them, unfolding at a pace that leaves room for the scent of petrichor to linger in the air. There’s a European lineage here, from the melancholy of Tomasz Stańko’s Polish jazz to the urban fog of Miles Davis’ Ascenseur pour l’échafaud soundtrack. But the pacing belongs to Bohren alone – glacial, immersive, and attentive to the silence between notes. Like David Lynch’s best work, the music makes beauty and menace share the same room; a brushed cymbal could be a velvet curtain’s hush or rain on a car roof while you wait for someone who might never come.