Couto brings a strong exotic, almost Mediterranean, flavour to many of the compositions - ‘’El Gran Dia Al Fin Llego’ embellishing this feel through warm acoustics which slowly blossom in structure, evoking distant sunsets which set the sky ablaze with copper and bronze edges to the drifting clouds. It is this aspect, which is very prominent throughout, ‘My Work...’ instils the crystallisation of natural events as a backdrop to human experience. Indeed, the album opens and closes with the sound of running waters and crisp strings and vocals in ‘November’ before peeling into the grand folkloric senses abounding in ‘No Cambiaras Lo Que No Puedes Cambiar’. Naturally, native folklore provides a steady narrative coursing through the album, ‘The Troubadour and His Lady in the Woods’, replete with mellow acoustics and gentle undulating vocals, recalls some of the styling of the Old European Oral Traditions.

There is certainly a fusion of ambient undertows, electronica and some experimentation (maybe even a hint of improvisation) gelling to an impressive degree with instruments such as the kantele, viola da terra and duduk; these instruments are not merely employed for their distinctive notes but worked well into Couto’s skilled compositions and subtle arrangements. With support from a number of musicians and vocalists the album retains a certain light of hope in contrast to some of Couto’s darker forays on past albums. Tracks such as ‘Song of Quiet’ and ‘Lavanda, Leite E Mirra’ would not feel that out of place on a ‘This Mortal Coil’ album with the latter track also having a somewhat early ‘Cocteau Twins’ guitar sound. The inclusion of the ‘All the Pretty Little Horses’ cover underscores this, but doesn't really distinguish itself enough from Current 93’s to really matter.

In saying that ‘My Work...’ ironically feels complete in that it convinces through a blend of stings, wind, percussion and electronica that weave amongst the folkloric-sounding and, at times, plaintive vocals - elements which are all bound together by qualified and well executed compositions. The fragrance of gently swaying woods nestling on cliffs ever crashed upon by the churning Atlantic which calls to the dreamer is evident here and for this ‘My Work...’ succeeds.