These performances were constructed, using samples and sequencers, from huge numbers of computer-stored digital recordings of every orchestral instrument’s complete range of single notes. Turning them into the realisation of a full-length composition is a long, painstaking, meticulous process. Hundreds of hours are needed to transform these thousands of components into cohesive end-products. Even more complicated than drilling four-score musicians – but I suppose sequencers don’t put their coats on in mid-bar the second rehearsal time is up. Given that the instrumental sounds are sampled, not synthesised, they are often surprisingly unconvincing: strings and percussion are authentic enough, and the brass is good most of the time, but the wind sections sometimes recall the Wurlitzer.

Slightly disconcerting though this is, the music is engaging enough to take your mind off it. In his Celtic Fanfares Lawson mixes an Irish folk song, several of his own tunes and elements of a Mendelssohn saltarello into a lively, Holstian extravaganza. Ghost Train, six continuous variations, prompts squeals of fun rather than fear.

Heneghan’s House draws inspiration from the trance states induced in Siberian shamans by drumming, dancing and hallucinogenic mushrooms and considers the difference in people’s perceptions and the belief that there is organisation in chaos. The music is never as forbidding as this suggests, despite some mysterious passages and effective use of contrasting tonalities. Like the lyrical, atmospheric Wild Rhondda, it is always accessible. Perhaps because of their background in rock and film, both composers imbue their predominantly melodic music with dance rhythms and emotional directness.