This week's best album that was recorded in a garden shed and thankfully doesn't sound like it is, is by composer/producer Chris Morphitis.

Drawing deep on the spirit of improvisation, the compositions on Where To Go can often come across like loosely woven threads held together by infrequently changing root chords. Each song feels like a distinct story, with its own laws of time and space, and with varying degrees of growth and development, and the composer successfully draws strong performances out of his chosen cast of free-thinking co-performers.

Lending their considerable talents to the collection are Hassan Erraji, described by Morphitis as a "wildcard improviser," forming a tight string section with British cellist Ian Burdge, the pair positing very different tones (literally). All the tracks on the album were recorded in live takes, with musicians being chosen not only for their ability, but for their improvisational experience.

The result is a mixed bag of the very gorgeous and ever-so-slightly sugary. 'Claustro' kicks off with a dirgey stoner workout that becomes absorbed into a King Crimson-esque, episodic melody, doing that classic prog thing which has found an outlet with acts like Grails in recent years. Its fusion of gypsy rock and noughties heavy rock could be a readymade soundtrack to Guy Ritchie's steampunk Sherlock Holmes features and feels a little contrived, although I'd love to visit the shed Morphitis recorded it in. He manages to achieve a breezeblock of a drum sound - like those Fosters adverts with the guys dancing around in tin helmets, where the guy looking in says "Bad news mate... it looks like they don't have a toilet."

Let's keep up with the movie / TV references; being entirely instrumental, many of the song structures feel like snippets from modern movie soundtracks - slow-burning, classy, beautifully spaced and mixed.

So 'Yellow Lines' could be straight off Park Chan-wook's Stoker, an uneasy, sophisticated, repressed number with breathey strings and a subby bassline that is hard to pin down to a particular instrument. 'Peel Feel' is Wes Anderson directing Ryan Gosling in a John Hughes-style return to high school drama-comedy, and probably the best thing on display. 'Coat Tails' is a delightful slice of afro-pop, a pyramidic guitar arrangement layered like a Buddhist shrine, heavily influenced by Chartwell Dutiro (something which Morphitis is humble enough to recognise in the accompanying press release).

The less interesting sections are those which allow the composer's saccharine tendencies to show. 'If S2' sounds like Bono scoring the life of Daniel O'Connell, with all the attendant horrors that evokes. It even comes with the non sequitur of a stadium rock mid-section. 'Chartwell' doesn't do a great deal, for a long time, and is a disappointing end to an album that is otherwise pretty consistently enchanting.

Morphitis' roots as a producer are very much on display in the album's leaner moments, with the occasional dead end melody creeping in at times and perhaps a lack of a strong, guiding songwriter to nip off the fat. In its most glorious moments, it is a low key delight.