Lobisomem is Portuguese for “werewolf,” and appropriately enough, the cover of Onze Pedras threatens to eat you alive, with a dead-faced woman blasting lightning bolts from her eyes. But that runs counter to the album’s actual music. Brooklynite Brad Loving has crafted a pensive, blissful collection of laptop electronica that relies on mood and atmosphere to draw you in.

This is far from a dance record, though you can sometimes hear a dance influence in the beats. Instead, Onze Pedras is reminiscent of the Album Leaf or Caribou’s early albums, mellow and stripped of bombast, though that’s not to say it’s sleepy. “Concussus” opens the record with bleep-bloops, horns, and the occasional drum roll, a spritely marriage of electronica and more traditional instrumentation. It gathers steam as it rolls along, and becomes the kind of song you hope your local record store will play on quiet Sundays.

Curiously, Loving claims his most recent influences are international folk music. He quit a steady job in 2009 in order to travel to Mali and Japan, but there’s not a very strong “world music” vibe on any of his songs. That’s probably because the blend of sounds on each track subtly creeps up on you. But listen carefully, and you can hear an African rhythm in the drums on “Oxbow,” and the steady brushing of a Japanese stringed instrument, maybe a shamisen, later on. Vocals appear infrequently on these tracks, and when they do, they’re phantoms, fading in from the borders of the song. “Saidera Harmony” is a gorgeous track. It sounds like an orchestra tuning up, strings softly building into radiant splendor. Add some breathy vocals, and you’d be in Sigur Ros territory.

Amid the scampering drum scratches and bubbling synths, there’s a lot of soul. Loving may have named his project after a man that turns into a beast, but the heart of Onze Pedras is clearly human.

(Tall Corn Music, no address provided)