It isn't called The Bath for nothing. Immersion is the name of the game here, with topics that touch on cleansing and baptism acting as hinges for the music to flow this way and that. With a family background in Co Donegal and a Methodist upbringing, New York-based Irish musician Emma Houton has delivered one of the year's most singular albums.

The music evolved first from her interest in choral ambient music and then from her 100-page score written for eight voices (as part of her senior thesis in experimental electronic music). When Covid-19 spiked planned live performances, Houton decided to self-direct the vocal parts. Alongside such ambient possibilities, she also constructed tunes where lyrics from murder ballads and folk songs are enveloped by what she describes as “exploration of the voice”.

For the most part, this means that Houton’s vocal lines are virtually indecipherable. No matter – what you hear is fluid, open to interpretation and occasionally approximates something akin to The Cocteau Twins’ greatest hits as played on singing wine glasses.

The two centrepiece tracks are the lengthiest. Bow and Balance (10 minutes-plus) and Idumea (a 19th-century sacred harp hymn, nine minutes) each showcase Houton’s undeniable skills at conjuring a mood that is equal measure riveting, melancholy and unnerving.

Niche music? Absolutely, but there is much to admire. Try not to let it pass you by. emmahouton.bandcamp.com