The debut album of Nala Sinephro – composer, harp and synthesizer player – is vast but not desolate, weaving a warmth around the listener like an ethereal, effervescent cloak. Space 1.8 was recorded incrementally, with planetary alignments in mind, in her home and Pink Bird Studios in East London.

It opens with synths and harp alone, ushering the listener in with birdsong and a plucky harp. From there, she and her collaborators traverse the contours of Sinephro’s organic, analogue universe.

All the tracks are the first take and had no set tuning or BPM. The rhythm section sets edges and adds jaggedness to the ambience, and without obvious melodious tricks of emotion, catharsis is a slow, swelling reward. In ‘Space 4’, Nubya Garcia steps through a pulsing, meditative pattern before digging into a primal, guttural thrash.

‘Space 5’ opens with the sound of raindrops on metal and Sinephro’s sparse harp, building into Ahnansé and Shirley Tetteh’s harmonies, densely packed to the point of buzzing. The final track, ‘Space 8’, a 17-minute-long reflection of the voyage Sinephro just took us on. It feels like a farewell from a familiar landscape. Fuzzy synths flitter around drones, zooming out on a small world, a complex world within a glassy marble. It's mesmerising music.