While still school-going she wailed a raucous saxophone in the original configuration of thrash-with-brains early punk heroes X-Ray Spex.

Later she pledged allegiance to the fledging Rough Trade label with her own band Essential Logic. Lora sang and blew at the front of a large-ish line-up. But in retrospect Essential Logic were an over ambitious operation and hindered by the perpetual yet unfruitful search for the ‘right' guitarist. They never realised their full potential.

With Essential going Terminal, Lora all but disappeared until very recently when she re-emerged with a 'solo' album. A tightly funk flavoured curio and a trifle inconsequential at first hearing but give it the benefit of further spins and the platter unfolds a sweet selection of discreet delights. It is called, with concise aptness and a little young pup playfulness, 'Pedigree Charm’.

“It's the first record I've made that I'm happy with. But I didn't know it was coming out. It's about a year overdue,” admits Lora on a sunny afternoon sitting on some Covent Garden steps.

“It takes some listening to because of the way it was made. It was done in layers, a solo thing, not like a band.”

The compiling of the Logic layers occurred at Milton Groovy, Arizona. Not the American state but the studio that Lora co-owns with Philip Legg and This Heat is in boring old Brixton.

"It was a kind of dual experiment. We were making the lp when we were still building the studio. The bass and drums were done when we still had minimal equipment but we had better mics and a nice mixing desk by the time we did the guitars and vocals.”

Ah, the vocals. Scan the enclosed lyric sheet and many of the album verbals seem confusingly incomprehensible jumbles of words.

"Anyone can read their own meaning into them. They're not meant to be exact, they're vague."

Yes, certainly. But often they seem close to complete nonsense than any allembracing allusiveness:

“Some are nonsense in a way. 'Hiss And Shake' is about a guy sitting in a laundromat who takes some drug and thinks he's the washing. It's images slung together but also a dig at drugs, the way people use them and produce incredible waffling rants. Lyrics are very important, I can’t just sing anything. I have to feel I’m saying something.”

Musically there is this on-going funk-ish undertow. A track, 'Wonderful Offer' (once a single) is almost a ringer in parts for ABC.

Lora, though, confesses complete ignorance of Alphabetical method-pop as well as total disinterest in the charts (but she has heard of Bucks Fizz) and music press, only scanning her own reviews in the cuttings folder kept for her at Rough Trade.

So... a dislike of drugs and an eschewing of the everyday trappings of the music scene. She even feared that I might want to conduct the interview over liquid refreshment in a pub. What else could this life possibly have to offer? Lora's into Krishna:

'I've been serious about it for a few years now. I saw some devotees in the street and thought that they were madmen. Then one of them said 'come back to my temple' (collapse of stout journalist).

“I visited regularly and became interested in their philosophy. I know we're not just a body and there's more to life than putting safety pins through noses. 'It's not just a mad belief. It's all based on practical science.”

This is a line she repeats over and over again in a vain attempt to appease sceptical me. She even puts her hand over the 'God' part of 'Back To Godhead', the title of the house rag back at her temple, whence we've adjourned for a vegetarian dinner.”

"For example, scientists say the atoms which make up the air are different early in the morning to what they are at midday and they're different again in the evening. So I always get up at five in the morning.”

If you've ever tried to dress yourself at 5am you’ve likely have had first-hand experience of the bed-body covering cross-over effect. A phenomenon which probably accounts for the blanket that Lora is wearing on this very warm day. Not a mere shoulder-level poncho style affair either but the full-sized head covering model.

I can't deny Lora seems peaceful and happy, a state of being that matches the quietly confident joy sounds of the album. But I wonder how this Krishna business equates with common or garden social issues. Y`know, politics and stuff?

“Politics are pretty askew these days. There is complete anarchy, everyone does just what they want.”

What?

“Politics is totally awry, it's not even based on its own dogmas. Nowadays there's no definition or aims or goals within anything. Everyone thinks they're in control of their own destiny but I don't think we're in control of anything.”

Currently this up-before-the-lark’s timetable is filled with piecing together a brand new Essential Logic:

“Part 192,” she giggles, “it'll be very different from the last one. Mostly acoustic with lots of voices. Rock music only uses guitars, bass, mics and amps but there are so many nice instruments that are not difficult to play. Five people playing hand drums is much better than a drum kit. I'm very interested in Indian music.”

Later Lora cast a small nostalgic tear when we drove past Neal Street, once home of the Roxy. “I played my first gig there,” she said and this 21-year-old seemed to sigh for her lost youth.

Her team-mate in those Specs days, Poly Styrene, has been frequenting the same temple. The pair plan to reunite for recording purposes.

“We don't know what it'll be yet, but it certainly won't be 'Oh Bondage Up Yours'.” Fine. But many will hope it won’t be Hare Krishna chants around the streets of the West End either.