For all the richness of her dramatic retro soul, British singer-songwriter Yola’s words make an immediate, concrete connection. The country-righteous title of her debut album, for example, was inspired not by the flames of love, but by a real house fire. She has plenty more troubles she could draw on, from childhood poverty outside Bristol to homelessness on the streets of east London, but Walk Through Fire’s overriding mood is glorious, sun-soaked southern contentment, from the resplendent expanse of Yola’s strong, versatile voice to the liquid steel, fiddle and Wurlitzer on the likes of It Ain’t Easier and Faraway Look. The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, in his Nashville studio – with storied session players and contributions from Dan Penn, who co-wrote The Dark End of the Street in 1967 – summons a retro warmth that avoids the dressup novelty of a Candie Payne or a Duffy, from the slink of Keep Me Here to the Dusty-ish high orchestral drama of Lonely the Night.

It’s a perfect period production that only occasionally tempts the listener to wonder how much more affecting Yola’s songs might be if she turned her attention from “whip-poor-wills” and “the grocery store” to landscapes closer to home.