How's this for an opening? A plinky jazz piano, the sudden climactic rush of a bandoneón, and then a deep, breathy female voice in your ear intoning `Buenos Aires necrofílica y vital'. This daring album breaks quite a few rules, not least because Fleurs Noires are a ten-piece all-female orchestra. The hook, if you will, is that tango is usually a masculine affair - men lead the dance, bandleaders have always been men, the song lyrics are often about male emotions responding to mothers, lovers and whores. These sisters, then, are reinventing the genre, making it their own. It is an exciting project, and a successful one. The women, all of either Argentinian or French origin, are classically trained, and it shows: the strings, in particular, are big and muscular. They also have a fondness for modern jazz and there are some wonderful Stravinsky-esque set-pieces bang in the middle of tango songs. Material has been sourced carefully - Edgardo Acuña, Victor Parma and Julian Plaza are great composers - and it is varied enough to allow all the soloists to have their spotlight moment. Pianist Andrea Marsili wrote a couple of the songs, and she gives herself a demanding role on them. The three bandoneóns are always in harmony, either powering a song along rhythmically, or creating a `collapsing lung' at the centre of an otherwise solid arrangement. Only a few songs feature a singer and the hired chanteuse, Débora Russ, may seem histrionic. But I suspect her diva shtick is intended to be half-ironic - I think even the clichés here are knowing and purposely overwrought. If you don't buy any other new tango this year, buy this: it is radical, looks death in the eye and is viscerally sexy. Chris Moss