Brightblack Morning Light’s self-titled album comes out today on Matador. I’ve a feeling this release will be overlooked, and that would be a tragedy, so I’m bringing it to your attention here. (Note: BML are touring America, but they’re skipping Seattle. Boo. However, if you’re feeling ambitious and affluent, you can catch them opening for Os Mutantes July 24 at San Francisco’s Fillmore Auditorium.)

I’ve never done heroin, but Brightblack Morning Light’s music makes me imagine what being on H must feel like: a woozy, opiated brain-haze; a weightless, carefree, amorphous drift; a honey-blooded slumber. These Cali by way of Alabama and Kentucky dudes and dudettes have tapped into the same spooky yet blissed-out vein (sorry) that Spiritualized did on the immortal “Shine a Light” and that Dr. John nailed on much of Gris-Gris (get this now; thank me later).

The pace on Brightblack Morning Light is as laggard as that of a post-office employee’s movements, but the minimalist wah-wah guitar, spectral Rhodes, fuzzy bass tones, gloriously extended cymbal splashes, soothing wind chimes, and Nathan Shineywater’s Jason Pierce-like soul moan all coalesce into some of the best late-night come-down songs I’ve ever heard (and I’ve heard a lot). This 53-minute disc is the best aural tension-disperser I’ve experienced in a long while. I suggest you curl up with it ASAP.