While still keeping a touch of the jazz sound that she’s built her name around – especially in the at-times clumsy but still delightfully textured opening track ‘Falling in Love in the Fall’ – Lamour takes a neo-classical route as she explores the four seasons in a way that steers away from any and all clichés.

The aforementioned opening track starts and ends surprisingly jovially but the meat of the piece carries a heart-wrenching melancholy while ‘Blue Winter No.4’ maintains a sense of optimism as the rain comes down around it.

As we move on to the ‘happier’ seasons things really start getting interesting. Rather than the staccatoed notes of butterflies flying and birds chirping “Might As Well Be Spring No.3” treats us to an at-times highly tense but consistently woeful milieu filled with sweeping violins and a meandering piano.

Likewise, the closing track shrugs off the expected mirth for nostalgia and, at its peak, regret. Only towards the end do we get something like we’d expect from a song about summer. Coming out of the turbulence is an outro that, while still keeping a bit of gloom around, staccatos to the end with the reluctant enthusiasm of a night-owl realising that maybe the sun’s not so bad.

What Off-Season does brilliantly, apart from show how diverse Lamour’s musical sensibilities are, is taking a rather cliché theme and turn it into something that is uniquely hers.