Noteworthy for its attractive paperboard, intense blue ink packaging alone, Maroon isn't just all looks; the first piece, the brief "Intro," is a mini-masterpiece of echoed singing and punchy digital beats, at once an expected track from Muslimgauze and something just a little bit different. While not completely a distinct change from the past or an undisputed high point of his career, Maroon does have Bryn Jones again doing what he loves to do and, for the most part, doing it very well indeed, with little changes thrown in along the way. The first "Thimble Cups of Urdu" demonstrates this nicely; while initially reminiscent of such zoneouts as Veiled Sisters, the intricate layering of many different percussion lines, rising and falling within the mix, along with buried bass and eerily soft keyboards, quickly establishes it as being a much more complex beast. The first "Harem of Dogs," meanwhile, is a flat-out winner, beginning with a sudden, high-volume shimmer of synth strings leading into the main piece; it's very upfront, in comparison to many similar pieces which take a more relaxed approach, and it really conveys the flavor of actually being in the middle of something, thanks in part to the many conversational snippets shot through the mix and left relatively free of production touches. The second "Harem" has a similar feel but its own distinct part, when nothing but a reverse cymbal loop obsessively plays on before the strings slide back in one last time. The remaining tracks on the album aren't quite as distinct as these numbers in particular, but together they all result in another generally fine Muslimgauze release.
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AllMusic Review by Ned Raggett