Cigarettes After Sex return with a double single that gently bridges past and future. On one side is a long-rumoured fan favourite: a faithful, hushed cover of The Doors’ The Crystal Ship, reframed through the band’s signature blur of reverb and restraint. Jim Morrison’s romantic fatalism slips effortlessly into their nocturnal world, sounding less like reinterpretation and more like revelation. The flip side, Anna Karenina, feels instantly recognisable yet quietly expanded. Slow-burning and emotionally unguarded, it leans into the band’s gift for intimacy while introducing spoken-word passages that open up new space within Greg Gonzalez’s songwriting. Its confessional edge pushes right up against excess, then holds there, suspended. Together, the two tracks form a concise statement: a band comfortable honouring its influences while gently stretching the boundaries of its own language. It’s Cigarettes After Sex doing what they do best, with just enough change to linger.