Both Morrissey and White seem destined to travel beyond genre, though they explored more definable traditions in earlier releases. Morrissey’s Tomorrow Will Be Beautiful (2015) is an honest and beatific affair, a refreshing outlier in a resurging field of folk rock that had fallen into glossy commercialism, her youthful debut looking back to the early aughts when Devendra Banhart and Joanna Newsom recorded a slew of exceptional acoustic music. White’s stunning debut Big Inner (2012) and its follow-up Fresh Blood (2015) are two southern soul journeys, engaging and idiosyncratic statements crafted with his family of Richmond collaborators. Gentlewoman, Ruby Man is a little more difficult to categorize, closing with a leftfield, but utterly sublime chant to Lord Krishna. The fact that it actually works, signals what kind of a special universe this project exists in, a universe familiar to anyone who has followed White’s label-cum-production house Spacebomb.

White’s production takes cues from the touchstones of tape that have become recording canon, he flourishes under a benevolent regime of preparation and in-the-moment respect for the musician’s intuition. Feel, what I feel, when I feel, what I feel, when I’m feelin’, in the sunshine. What separates him from the new class of rock producers with magpie access to all the coolest records from all the decades, is his background in jazz and sophisticated understanding of arrangement, in the tradition of a Quincy Jones with more than a few strands of Brian Wilson’s psychedelic DNA. Morrissey injected a dose of spiritual joy into the process, placing an educated faith in White’s direction and providing her own guiding light in the studio, ready with a studied opinion or an inspired suggestion.

Flo’s ethereal voice, timeless to begin with, has matured and strengthened, bringing a richness and magic core to everything it touches, and she really sings the night out. White’s honeydrop vocal caresses offer a complimentary texture or prowl in the lead. These are big songs tackled with zero insecurity and ego, the band fiery and loose, taking the pressure and throwing away conventionality. An album of covers could have slipped into mindless eclecticism, commercial efforts at popularity or crate digging cred, but White and Morrissey simply picked good, sometimes unexpected songs that they love and feel connected to, from Grease (1978), to a spine-tingling take on the title track from James Blake’s The Colour In Anything (2016). Ten tracks that feed the heart and move the body.