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I want to listen to Widowspeak's second album, Almanac, while driving south down the Washington coast. I imagine it's after midnight, I'm with my girlfriend, and we don't really care how far we go. It makes sense that the Brooklyn duo originally hails from that neck of the woods. Almanac is awash in guitar fuzz. Tracks like "Dyed in the Wool" have a sexed-up, West Coast-circa-1995 vibe, but like they took Fleetwood Mac's Rumors and filtered it through the operatic distortion of My Bloody Valentine.

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"We live until we're long in the teeth / think of me / how I used to be / we could never / stay forever," singer Molly Hamilton mourns on the beach rock bummer, "Ballad of a Golden Hour." Her voice mirrors the low croon and furtive repose of Mazzy Star's Hope Sandoval.

The best part of Almanac is when it comes to a slow burn conclusion with the dirge "Storm King." The song expands the reverb floor and fills it with atonal violins and Hamilton's coo until there's nothing left but the whisper of crickets and coyote yelps. This is music to escape to.

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