That Anúna, now 36 years of age, has continued on what you might reasonably call a solitary path is down to the stubborn if compulsive vision of Michael McGlynn. The singular choral music the unit has crafted and presented over the years is, says McGlynn, “just itself”. The music endures, he implies, without fanfare or even support from an Irish perspective: he drolly accedes that he is right to have said 12 months ago that Anúna would never perform again in Ireland, “as the announcement was greeted with profound silence”.

The choral group, named after three ancient types of Irish music – suantraí/lullaby, geantraí/happy song and goltraí/lament – is known primarily for its integral involvement in Riverdance, but it has long advanced to the point where it is a force to be reckoned with, including in the video-game community. Now “philosophically based in Ireland”, the music on Otherworld may well be outside the orbit of prevailing listening habits, but the blend of what you might expect (sepulchral harmonies presented in sheathes of sound) is enhanced by what you might not (a distinct Icelandic sensibility that would not be too far removed from liminal moments provided by the likes of Sigur Rós).

As always, Anúna remains too distinctive for easy categorisation, which is both a creative virtue and a (perceived) commercial flaw, but the journey – undeterred by music-industry expectations – persists.