When the first lockdown hit, husband-and-wife team Elena Urioste and Tom Poster started broadcasting daily from a borrowed home in Maryland, taking requests and playing whatever people wanted them to play. They talk in the promotional video of Led Zeppelin up against Elgar, of variations on ‘Come on Eileen’ and Britney Spears’s ‘Toxic’. The principle was to approach each piece with equal respect and with equal care. Their Jukebox project won a Royal Philharmonic Society Award.

Now it’s an album. But if there’s one thing a jukebox ain’t, it’s an album. What we have here is a single hour of music for people who have exactly the same taste (a misty-eyed, nostalgia-soaked view of the world). There’s no sign of any of the pop numbers mentioned, nor any Elgar, unless they are fleetingly referenced in the 90-second Jukebox Toodle‑oo that ends. But there’s sentimentality aplenty, from Édith Piaf’s ‘La vie en rose’ to ‘A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square’. The latter is dripping with schmaltz, its shapely tune elaborated almost beyond recognition from the start, strung out like a wedding improviser waiting for a late bride. Poster’s take on Sondheim’s ‘Send in the clowns’ preserves the tune and is more effective for it, but the former piece dictates the style of the album, from first track to penultimate.

The jukebox does include six new pieces but the composers appear to have been briefed to write in the same high nostalgic, pastiche Romantic style. Huw Watkins’s Arietta is interesting because it does something more – undercutting the mawkishness of a poignant, pattern-accompanied melody with a sort of simmering pain. Jessie Montgomery’s Peace has parallel undercurrents. The rest, especially from the composers in question, disappoint.

Poster’s arrangements are impeccably stylish, and all of a style. His take on Kern’s ‘Look for the silver lining’ is in the finest Hollywood tradition (like many of his arrangements, it’s written for Urioste’s multi-tracked violins) and shows a fantastic musical brain. He plays as stylishly as he writes, as does Urioste; Fauré’s Andante, Op 75, winds up seeming an astonishingly variegated piece here and the performance simmers, rising by small degrees.

But it’s hard to focus on that when the concept is so confused. Rename this ‘The Night Hour’ or something less hackneyed, and I’d see the point. Jukebox? That’s a library of thousands of very different songs from which you choose one. And for that we now have Spotify.