At their core, Altin Gün are the ultimate modern fusion band—not in the Miles Davis sense, but by the very literal definition. Emerging from Amsterdam, the Dutch-Turkish quintet specializes in a sublime form of psychedelia, revitalizing traditional Anatolian music as they spiderweb out into prog, disco, funk, and synth-pop. And for their first eight years, they also relied on a particularly captivating fusion behind the microphones, with singer Merve Daşdemir blending her mellifluous tones with the more somber, ruminative voice of Erdinç Ecevit. For their sixth album, they face a unique challenge—carrying on without that distinctive sweet-and-savory hybrid, Daşdemir having left the lineup in 2024. That shift alone makes Garip more of an obvious grower than any of their previous work, including their pair of divisive, electronic-leaning pandemic projects, 2021’s Yol and Âlem. At first, it’s hard to shake the feeling that something’s missing—you can’t help but autofill Daşdemir’s haunting timbre into “Öldürme Beni,” a funky groover with handclaps and spacey-as-hell synthesizer leads. But once you let reality take hold, you start to notice all of the subtle ways they’ve yet again tricked out their songs. Here, reimagining the work of Turkish folk artist Neşet Ertaş, they add cinematic drama through the Stockholm Studio Orchestra (see: “Gönül Dağı”), add sexy saxophones (“Suçum Nedir”), slip in a blissful space-rock slide-guitar solo (“Gel Kaçma Gel”) and reach peak synth-wave on closer “Bir Nazar Eyledim.” What Altin Gün has lost in immediate charisma, they’ve made up for in curiosity.