Yusa and her young Cuban band came of age when the gaps in the sugar-cane curtain were already wide enough to allow in all kinds of outside musical influences. They also benefited from the conservatoire qualifications needed to become a performing musician in Cuba. So these technically faultless players have an exceptional range of music at their fingertips (rock, jazz, doo-wop, bebop, classical and the entire Cuban repertoire make appearances here) as well as the techniques needed to transform their musical ideas into reality.

Many arrangements reflect the hand of jazz-fusion pioneer Roberto Carcassés, but the relentless eclecticism of some of his dazzlingly complex instrumentations can be exhausting, and the simplest songs – such as ‘Numero 2’, backed only by a spare, clean, piano, guitar and strings, and ‘Mares de Inocencia’ (Seas of Innocence) sung to a slow-moving and haunting cello melody – can be a relief from the ever-changing styles and motifs. Yusa’s lyrics (translated) reveal a mature poet grappling with thoughts on love, often set in Havana locations, which are painted, musically, through car horns, ocean waves and children’s voices. And the appropriately dreamy echoing ambiance of the studio suggests one of Havana’s empty elegant salons.

The rich sultriness of Yusa’s luscious voice allies her with Brazil’s new samba singers, but has also led to comparisons with Tracey Chapman, while her harmonic explorations conjure Cassandra Wilson. The dread-locked singer recently earned a Latin Grammy nomination, guaranteeing her a rightful place in the new Latin music landscape – a refreshing change from the now-stereotyped Cuba of upbeat salsa and retro-romancing.