The man known to the public as Sinkane, but to the government and his friends as Ahmed Gallab, has always been a hard one to pin down. After three records of largely instrumental ambient post-rock jams, he reemerged on 2012’s Mars as an all-singing, space-funk, Afrobeat-groovin’ frontman. Out were the songs for headphones and in were tracks for the dancefloor. It’s wasn’t so much the difference between night and day as perhaps night and early morning, but it proved that it was futile trying to predict what Gallab might do next. A similar case can be made for his latest Sinkane album, Mean Love (DFA Records).

Mean Love doesn’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. It has plenty of dance grooves, but they’re not as heavily influenced by Afrobeat. This time around there seems to be slightly more Afropop and even the occasional snatch of highlife and Tropicália. But the biggest surprise is the unabashed embracing of the high lonesome sound. While the appearance of pedal steel on “Young Trouble” seems to fit into the melting pot of influences, later in the album it becomes more distinct. It’s no stretch to say that on the title track and “Gallery Boys” that Sinkane goes country—think early Hank Williams with a dash of Slim Whitman and without an ounce of irony. It wouldn’t be a stretch to see these songs performed onstage at the Opry.

With so many styles flying around furiously and influences ranging from the aformentioned to Sade and Tom Ze, it’s tempting to dissect the parts. But Mean Love is greater than that shopping list of influences. It’s a record suited for the party while also addressing family concerns and identity politics. And while Mars frequently put the groove above all else, Mean Love is tightly focused. Perhaps not a logical evolution, it’s an assured performance and a progression of sorts that shows that Gallab is a thoughtful craftsman. In short, Mean Love is an album that’s easy to dig.