It’s hard to really pin down what’s going on in this track from Toronto’s Au/Palais. The ’80s synth opening feels like it should be playing in the background as Don Johnson blasts through a pre-dawn Miami—the Daytona’s top down—reflecting on the comely young informant who just got iced because of him. But there’s also a distant, hollowness to the vocals, like The Knife without the icy Nordic gloom. Then, as the track begins to build, you start to wonder if you’re about to have a club banger on your hands. In order to get to the bottom of this, I heartily suggest you make this your pensive, “returning home after a night out in Oslo”- track. For full effect, don’t put up the top.