Tangier

Tangier marks the third outing from reclusive multi-instrumentalist Keir McDonald under his chosen nom de guerre, Medusa Cyclone, and, as usual, it provides a mostly instrumental fly-over of the outermost rings of planet rock & roll. Like the interconnecting limbs of a disembodied soundtrack, gently ambient numbers "Orange Sunshine" and "Pulsar" start the ball rolling in mellow, sweetly chiming fashion, cautiously setting the stage for more traditional rock fare like "Black Cobra," as well as occasional detours like the warped calypso of "El Mar Caribe." Technically, these forays into more recognizable song styles add necessary variety to Tangier's quite nebulous, free-form vibe, but, conversely, theirs is a dubious presence that detracts from the album's natural flow. Sure enough, a certain something is lost in transition during the dead silence that divides the latter-named tune and the measured pacing of the subsequent three-song cycle, which slowly builds toward a swirling, soft catharsis on "Beltane." This is in turn followed by yet another detour via the 13-minute title track's techno-fueled rave, which eventually brings Medusa Cyclone's compelling, if slightly disjointed, sonic voyage to an end.