, the quartet's latest release, looks to the various cradles of civilisation centred around the Middle East, with their low-lying riverlands and high-flying music. Opening with a devilishly catchy slice of Cairo-style tango, arranged by Osvaldo Golijov, the next stop is Palestine for Tashweesh, a gritty collaboration with the local hip-hoppers Ramallah Underground.
A certain spiritual dimension is never far away, whether acknowledging the expressive hymn singing of the Lebanese Fairuz, or exploring more meditative spaces in Raga Mishra Bhairavi: Alap, with electric sitar and Terry Riley, that grand old Master of Minimalism, on tambura.
Heels are kicked up to machine-gun-like rhythms in a number from Iraq and, with less sinister accoutrements, through the infectious Nihavent Sirto, a tribute to the Turkish composer Tanburi Cemil Bey (1871-1916).
Perhaps the most extraordinary venture is the track Tew semagn hagere in which the Americans offer their take on a song by the Ethiopian Alemu Aga, using exotic instruments custom-built for them by Walter Kitundu.
While most of the offerings are modest in length, two are more extensive.
The closing
Hold me, neighbour, in this storm
is a 22-minute soundscape by contemporary Serbian composer Aleksandra Vrebalov, a collage that weaves Kronos' contribution in amongst the pealing of bells and a recording of Vrebalov's own grandmother - music with the emotive clout of a hard-hitting festival documentary.
Getme, Getme i
s a spellbinding 12-minute performance from the Barbican stage at last year's Ramadan Nights Festival, featuring Kronos alongside the Azerbaijan duo Alim and Fargana Qasimov and their ensemble. This is a glowing testament to the way that Kronos bring the musicians of the world together and, when the Qasimovs chorus, "Don't go, Don't go", who could not agree?
William Dart
