Ask any out-of-pocket writer what the best thing about living off perks is and I can guarantee one of the first things they’ll say is “festivals.” I’ve been extremely lucky this summer in that I’ve been able to attend quite a few across Europe, but none of what I’ve experienced has come close to the excellence of Helsinki’s Flow Festival. I’m already in the middle of a love affair with the country (my girlfriend is Finnish and I’ve spent a lot of time in the country over the last year) but this festival really struck me as something truly life-affirming.

Situated in an old power plant littered with fairy lights and a certain electric ambiance, the vibe was euphoric yet almost indescribable, with amphitheatres situated under giant balloons and sauna-like industrial tents acting as gateways to an expertly curated lineup. Despite its uniqueness, it was however unable to provide a solution for the curse of horrific clashes, and on the last night a bunch of us ran away—yes, ran away—from Outkast coming on to the main stage to catch Mac DeMarco play in a seriously sweaty, unnaturally square tent that was selling rum and coke for an extortionate 10€. Crazy? You could’ve said so at the time. For years I’ve been eagerly anticipating an Outkast reunion, and here I was actively avoiding it. If I hadn’t made that move though, I wouldn’t have been turned on to HOMESHAKE, and in turn I wouldn’t currently be talking about one of my favorite and most underrated records of the year. I still danced to “Roses” live though, so everything worked out in the end.

I’ve seen Mac a few times over the past couple of years, and maybe it was the intense heat on that warm August night, but it seemed like his show went further down into the rabbit hole of insanity that is his totally warped mind. Cigarette smoke clouded everything; a fucked up projection of his face was being beamed as a backdrop. One of the first shows where Peter Sagar (the face behind HOMESHAKE) was replaced with Andy White, and considering that everyone else was watching Outkast, only hardcore fans were lingering around and the show flew off like a bottle rocket. “You know, Andy’s here, but Pete’s new band is playing in Helsinki on Tuesday night, and we’re sticking around for a couple of days. Come hang out with us,” said Mac after a rowdy crowdsurf. Always a fan of anything even remotely related to him, I couldn’t make the show that night, but after becoming hooked on HOMESHAKE records, I can’t help but regret not making more effort to attend.

HOMESHAKE’s latest album In the Shower is the classier, more seductive version of Mac’s oddball pop. If we’d all been transported from the unbearable heat of the tent that night into a premium jazz bar somewhere in the corner of Helsinki, it would’ve been HOMESHAKE playing on the stage; all slinky guitar riffs and funky percussion. It is a bit of a sleazy record, but it’s entertainingly so, reeling you in with its off-kilter hooks and sporadic time signatures. “She Can’t Leave Me Here Alone Tonight” starts as it means to go on: “just try to relax,” a somewhat creepy voice echoes before some gentle, erratic strumming dissolves into what can only be described as a premium whiskey cocktail that’s two parts sadness and one part five star hotel lobby. This is the kind of music that would soundtrack a modern day Don Draper montage; the sort of tunes you’d expect to find the band of the night playing when you stumble into a bar down an unknown alleyway in the upper part of the neighborhood.

Then suddenly, as tracks like “Chowder” and “Making a Fool of You” come and go, you’re able to snap out of the drunken haze and realize that actually, this isn’t premium music. It’s weird and unclassifiable and strange, but it’s still brilliant. Maybe HOMESHAKE could actually play a jazz bar, though it would have to be one owned by DeMarco, as his weird, kooky take on life is embedded deep in this record’s DNA. “Okay” swirls around and around and up and down, with almost paranormal electronics gurgling and wailing around Sagar’s downtrodden vocal. There’s something ingraining about Sagar’s voice, and it reminds me of the transition that Mac made from 2 to Salad Days in that Sagar is opening up in his lyrics despite the slick and cool shield he keeps up on the outside. “Chowder” is a prime example: goofy and silly, it almost outright mocks the jazz bar culture I’ve compared this record to so far. The intention is sincere there, a straightforward love song deep down that’s expressed in Sagar’s own charmingly loopy personality.

Whenever I hear lines like “she’s my chowder, and I love her so much,” and “all I hear is crying and it marks her eyes,” over the almost hypnotic rhythms that Sagar has masterfully executed, I can’t help but think about how much whoever he’s singing about means to him. Quite often his voice is muffled and distorted by the sounds around it, and the eerie whispers of “I’m sorry, I wasn’t strong enough” at the end of “Doo Dah” make it seem that actually, Sagar’s feeling a little shy and awkward about trying to get his thoughts across. Sure, the music is almost trance-inducing in the way it slinks and slides, but it’s also the perfect distraction: you’re entranced and addicted to its weirdness, while Sagar gets across what he has to say. Whether you take this album as the perfect late night whiskey drinking buddy or simply as a comforting companion, there’s something in In the Shower for everyone, even if it’s just busting a few moves to the irresistible “Michael” in the shower instead of “Hey Ya.”

In the Shower is out now via Sinderlyn.