Another commuter on the Dublin underground reaches the second stop on the line. Shadowing a fellow ingénue whose album drops this month, Nina Hynes’ coming-of-age opus is a David Odlum co-production, with mixing board fairy dust courtesy of Steve Osborne.

However, Hynes’ affiliation with International Bar minstrelsy is only as significant as you want it to be. Last winter, Bjork expressed the wish that her Vespertine be considered a record of domestic intimacy, a hot whisper of sound that lives in the steam of the kitchen and under the sheets. Nina Hynes has achieved a similar ambience here. Staros rarely raises its voice, and like Margaret Healy, marries flatland minimalism with elements of euro-electronica, avant jazz equations and The Blue Nile’s nocturnal urban emptiness.

The single ‘Mono Prix’ is a something of a curve-throwing trailer, a fuzzbox distillation of softness and distortion that could be a ruffled stray from Sinead’s first album, or Stereolab’s last. The rest waxes quiet and confident, and Staros’s second act, from ‘Tenderness’ through to the title tune, suggests emotion recalled in the tranquillity of a flotation tank. The sole circuit-breaker is ‘Last Song Of The 20th Century’, an attempt at netting all the detritus of the digital age in streams of consciousness that seem doomed by design to let all substance slip through.

But that’s just a minor plot point in an arthouse movie of a record that follows you all the way to the womb of home.