Mali Larrington-Nelson is the daughter of Trevor Nelson, one of the pivotal figures in Black British music since the late eighties, and her second album Mali is a record that could only have been made by someone who deeply loves this culture. The album is a wonderful tapestry of UK soul club music that touches on so many strands of the tradition that it becomes almost genreless. You can hear a garage two-step shuffle, UK funky, grime, soca, bashment, house, gospel and funk, moving between them with ease and fluency, as if they’re not separate categories but a single continuous culture absorbed over a lifetime.

The album exudes the same brightness, warmth and sunshine as the country that shares its name, built for carnivals, daytime festivals and rooftop terraces. Even the tracks that are technically bangers feel sun-drenched rather than being two-in-the-morning music. I Can Tell sets the template immediately with a terrific shuffle that touches on garage while reaching towards all sorts of other warm and groovy sounds. Loosen Up is built on wonky soft synths that recall Mr. Scruff, proving that she doesn’t need to rely on collaborators, whilst Moonlight featuring Private Joy moves closer to R&B than club music with a beautiful vocal performance floating over soft and intimate piano. Full Circle functions as a brief interlude with nothing but keys suspended in the air like a held breath. Driving On Sand with the legendary Steve Spacek is utterly blissful, Nort Wess is sparse and grimy, and Same New Song has drums drenched in tape distortion that gives it a nineties pirate radio quality. 16 Hours is suspended and strange, and Live Dis Ting (Belt Drives) closes the album on a downtempo note. The grooves throughout Mali are meticulous and make you want to move, carrying decades of Black British music history in their DNA.