It’s curious how Beraha gets labelled as ‘experimental’. Isn’t any artist worth their salt, who tests boundaries and explores the new ‘experimental’? Is the word meant to give her some exclusive cache? Which would be odd because the music, especially with her band the Lucid Dreamers, as here, is about connection and communication, rather than being intellectual or ‘difficult’. Come to that I don’t get the ‘wordless vocal’ label: no one talks of a ‘wordless’ sax. Beraha’s voice is her instrument, her pipes more complex, more sensitised than any mechanical instrument; words are a bonus, and let’s face it, often get in the way of how music can mainline straight to the heart. Best of all Beraha is play-ful: full of fun, and in her band mates, her play pals, she has players who are happy to surrender to play-full approaches to serious living.

Crowley’s bluff melodicism is off set by Mick’s pared down chords while Giles plays all around the beat like a hound snuffling out the best of rhythmic truffles. Beraha herself is restrained and suggestive, at times darkly questioning as on the heartfelt ‘Lullaby’, at others mischievous and teasing as on ‘Doors’. The electronics are never intrusive, nor simply decorative but complement the soft gifting of breath that Beraha’s music shares with us. Epic tide turning pieces like ‘Modulo 7’ contrast to the yearning beauties of ‘Too Far to Hear My Singing’. Experiments all, experiences more so.