Little has been heard in the UK by Moritz Eggert (b1965) during those two decades since he came to prominence, but in Germany he has carved a niche in music-theatre with numerous operas, ballets and sundry projects to his name. This latest release features Muzak (2016), a discourse on the concept of music whose existence ‘at the margins’ has led to its permeating many aspects of society. Many pieces are either alluded to or evoked without being quoted literally over its 42 minutes, the likely intention being to underline the emotional resonance which such music can strike, often almost involuntarily, in the mind of the unwitting listener.

The problem, as often with works of this nature, is that the musical substance is too insubstantial and generalised to convey the multilayered irony the composer doubtless intended. In this instance, Eggert provides the focal point with his almost continuous vocal presence, though his (self-penned) text is little more than a collection of titles and clichés from the pop canon, with his vocal delivery a mixture of coyness and bravado that irritates more than it intrigues.

Rather more engaging is Masse (2008), the seventh instalment in the ‘Number Nine’ series that Eggert has been assembling over the past two decades (Nos 1 3 can be heard as part of a worthwhile ‘portrait’ disc issued by Wergo), which considers the phenomenon of the Ninth in terms that encompass Austro-German symphonism as well as John Lennon’s (in)famous tape collage. Musically it is predicated on all the instruments playing all of the time, though Eggert varies the texture so a wide range of incident is encountered over its eventful course.

Peter Rundel acquits himself admirably in this latter piece, as also does David Robertson in Muzak – yet another memorial tribute to David Bowie which promises more than it delivers.