Whenever people from disparate geographies come together to make new music, passive listeners tend to treat the results like mosaics or club sandwiches — assemblages made to dazzle and nourish us with the vague suggestion of a universal language that might eventually help our idiot species transcend its fractiousness. Enji’s music feels way deeper than that. No tiles, no tiers, no pseudo-kumbaya. She’s a Mongolian jazz singer currently recording bossa nova-hued ballads in Germany, but instead of coming together like global bric-a-brac, her songs mix like satin interior paint — vivid and smooth.