These three magisterial compositions were realized between 1973 and 1980 by Paris-based composer Eliane Radigue, who was formerly a student of musique concrète guru Pierre Henry, until he uncharitably dismissed her immaculate slow-motion minimalism out of hand. Time has happily proved him quite mistaken. Describing Radigue's work with the simple (and these days overused) epithet "drone" is somewhat misleading, for unlike classic examples of the genre, from La Monte Young and his erstwhile violinist Tony Conrad, Radigue's music is almost constantly on the move. But very, very slowly, putting ARP synthesizer to use in ways Herbie Hancock never even dreamed of, Radigue builds the sonic geology of her works in strata. Tuning in to the upper frequencies of "Adnos I" (1973 -- 74) is like lying on your back in a field and watching clouds drift by overhead, while the slow heartbeat of her music recalls Morton Feldman's celebrated observations on duration: "Up to one hour you think about form, but after an hour and a half it's scale." Not surprisingly perhaps, given the unique meditational quality of the music, Radigue eventually became a Tibetan Buddhist, but there's no question here of tuning in and dropping out. "Adnos II" is thicker and more physically present, compelling the listener to focus on what Karlheinz Stockhausen once referred to as "the rhythm of your smallest particles," while the ghostly pendulum ostinati of "Adnos III," which swing in and out of focus from the 11-minute mark, are utterly compelling. There's a lot of "drone" music around these days, because people misguidedly think it's easy to do, but when confronted with authentic masterpieces such as these, the difference between the wheat and the chaff is abundantly clear. Hopefully, Pierre Henry, if he's still wearing a hat, will doff it in reverence. ~ Dan Warburton, All Music Guide
