French lullabies and traditional folk songs dating as far back as the 14th century, adapted with contemporary arrangements and faint tape manipulations in Dublin, Ireland. Imagine Serge Gainsbourg, John Martyn and Gábor Szabó squeezed on a small stage in the early hours of a smokey backstreet Parisian jazz club, slowly hypnotising the audience into hypnagogic hallucinations.

Growing up, Kevin Fowley split his time between living in France and Ireland. He listened to French lullabies sung by his mother in one room, while his father would be playing Donegal tunes on the fiddle in another. “I’m lucky to have been brought up bilingual and bicultural,” he says. “What I find interesting is that I usually think in English, but if I intentionally start thinking in French, a markedly different side of my personality comes through, encouraging different thought patterns.”

And this is apparent on his beautiful record of French lullabies À Feu Doux, which encompasses musical elements from both worlds, as it seamlessly glides across folk, jazz, and a rich yet shimmering in between sound. Varnished and exposed is the feeling that floats through À Feu Doux like a gentle gust of wind creeping in through the open window at night. Real night time music.