As Phoenix grew more popular, their music felt more populated, frantic and frenzied, like a time-lapse video of a busy downtown intersection. You could feel their blood pressure increase on the singles they released over the years—the causal Strokes-y strut of 2006’s “Consolation Prizes” gave way to the clock-ticking synth-pop of 2009’s “1901,” which begat the white-light synapse overload of 2013’s “Entertainment.” Indeed, the entirety of their last album Bankrupt! felt like the band was hitting a breaking point where exhilaration turned to agitation. So it’s nice to hear that, on the first single from the upcoming, Ti Amo, Phoenix have given themselves—and us—a much-deserved chance to exhale.

At first, you could be forgiven for thinking Phoenix had swung too far in the opposite direction—“J-Boy” begins as a sputtering electro dirge that sounds like it’s running out of batteries. But that’s merely the dingy, back-alley entrance to a dazzling, neon-lit discotheque whose doors swing open and whisk you in at the 10-second mark. The radiant synth sheen of the band’s recent records remains, but here it’s slathered onto a steady bass bounce that more readily recalls the soft-focus fantasias of M83 than anything in their own catalog.

Of course, the song’s laissez-faire pace brings us no closer to understanding Thomas Mars’ notoriously cryptic, tongue-twisting lyrics. “J-Boy” is ostensibly a love song, though, as the singer recently explained to the New York Times, it’s one set against a dystopian, science fiction backdrop—which would explain why its starry-eyed sentiments are polluted by references to “radium,” “[stealing] money from a homeless girl,” and “kamikazes in a hopeless world.” But while we may never look to Phoenix to help us understand the state of our planet, you can still rely on them to provide a euphoric momentary escape from it.