You won't be fooled of course by the disingenuous title: when the voices of Surman and Krog entwine as they have for, oh, four decades, then the ‘this and that’ they evoke is rich and diverse, an iron-tight technique underwriting those faux naives melodies and winsome lyrics. Krog's cool doesn't enamour her to those who like some grunt in their vocalists, but it's perfect for all the styles evoked here: ‘Cherry Tree Song’ has the delicacy of Japanese calligraphy, yet has roots in Brecht and Weill, ‘Pebble Song’ is surreally meditative, but then with ‘Monk Song’, we're boppish and quirky. You might want to hear more of Surman, but less is definitely more; the impact of, say, that kicking baritone on ‘Moonlight Song’ all the more forceful for its rarity. Like Norma Winstone, that wavering edge in the timbre that the passing years brings actually adds to Krog's emotional palette, bringing a fragility to, for example, ‘Mirror Song’. The work of these two artists remains as vital as ever.