Has someone wronged you? Are they wronging lots of people? Is revenge needed? It might be time for voodoo. Break out that handy-dandy burlap doll you made to look like said wrongdoer, and stab it in the face and genitals repeatedly. Revenge, done. But not all voodoo involves stabbing dolls. In a remote northern village in Sweden called Korpilombolo, they practice a voodoo that centers on love and family unity. It's this positive voodoo that fuels the earthen jams of recent Sub Pop signees Goat. They're a collective of sons and daughters whose numbers have swelled to a hundred people over the past decades. World Music is their first proper release, and sounds in the nine songs are guided through kiln-fired portals of psych, drone, and hypnotized krautrock. Guitar solos wander across a land bridge layered in skins and distorted wah-pedal. Medicine-woman vocals call to an oracle named Odgou. Songs like "Goatman," "Goathead," and "Goatlord" rise out from fireside trances. Who's Odgou, you ask? Why does Korpilombolo rhyme with YOLO? Could Randall Dunn be in this band? Questions abound, but Goat are unconcerned. They prefer anonymity and wear masks when they perform. All that matters resides inside the tents of their music. The member of Goat I spoke with said I could refer to them as Dr. Goatface. I think they were in Korpilombolo.