Ezra Williams, formerly known as Smoothboi Ezra, releases a debut album that is every inch a work of maturity – and in no way synced to whatever may be happening in Dublin, an hour from the homestead in Greystones, Co Wicklow.

Being adrift from music clusters that veer towards the clannish has its benefits, and for the past several years Williams has been honing songwriting skills that may reference the likes of Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers and Snail Mail but very much express what it’s like for someone on the autism spectrum to form close and lasting relationships.

Williams has said that trying to fit into any kind of scene has never been easy – “I don’t really know what genre of music I make ... I make stuff, and if it sounds okay I’ll release it” – but on Supernumeraries there isn’t a song that sounds out of place.

Comprising the kind of self-produced, lo-fi and self-questioning sensibilities that have roots in the US anti-folk movement (think Moldy Peaches and the early solo work of that duo’s Kimya Dawson) and indie movies (think Juno, in particular), the album weaves a deliciously measured path between perceived shortcomings, vulnerability and gradual acceptance. “I never expected it to last, love too strong, it has to pass,” Williams sings on My Friend, one of many songs here that touch the heart and strengthen resolve.