A world map might be a more appropriate backdrop for Fraser Fifield’s latest venture than the customary Queen’s Hall black drape.

The saxophonist, piper and low whistle master’s music may have its heart in his Aberdeenshire homeland and the bagpipe training he received there, but it is music with a panoramic sweep.

The first number alone visited four continents, expanding its original, gently nimble, Scottish folk-dance horizons to include raga-like quarter tones, African guitar patterns and the South American percussion box, the cajon, in a piece where all the components, however diverse, coalesced into a tightly executed and truly satisfying whole.

This was the band’s first live performance, although only the occasional raised eyebrow-style cue and nodded confirmation would have betrayed this. It’s been a gradual coming together, though. Fifield and his extraordinarily fluent and creative guitarist, Graeme Stephen, have developed an almost fraternal understanding over the past decade or so. Drummer Alyn Cosker joined them earlier this year when, as Fifield joked, his predecessor, Stu Ritchie, won the Best Drummer title at the Scottish Jazz Awards and became too expensive. And newcomer, bassist Mario Caribe, seems able to walk into any musical situation as to the manner born.

Their collective experience produces a group that can play with both freedom and organisation, incorporating electronic gadgetry, propulsive grooves, hard-rock menace, romantic impressionism and, on Signs of Life, exhilarating Bhangra-style riffing.

Fifield’s compositions habitually beguile but it’s where he, particularly with his beautifully expressive low whistle improvisations, and his colleagues take them that mark this band out as a real force.

Star rating: ****