A release of long, heavy, partially acoustic, partially electric drone. Culled from its original 216 minute length, we're presented here with 77 heady minutes of deep, overlapping, slowly fluctuating tones in which to wallow. That's some good wallowin'.

This performance took place in February of 1974, in Syracuse, New York. The basis for the piece is the "line cycle" of the AC current already extant in the performing space. The electronic tones (generated by Liz Phillips) are tuned in harmonics of this cycle as are the Pipehorns, long tubes made of metal plumbing and resembling both alpenhorns and didgeridoos, on this day played by Jim Burton, Garrett List, Barbara Stewart and the composer. The close-knit but not exact harmonics create, with the differing timbres, natural variations in the drone, evoking a slowly eddying river of sound, the ambient noises in the space (coughs, movements of chairs, footsteps, etc.) acting as flotsam drifting downstream. The electronics are the steady tide-pull while the pipes, with their breath-determined lengths, provide the currents within that flow. The listener simply sits backs and allows him or herself to be wafted along. Unlike standard new-agey drones, however, there's a wealth of detail and activity along the way, though it's subtle enough to force one's attention in order to be appreciated. The flutter of this performer's lips at this point, the hesitation of another at that, the extra guttural tones here the whistling ones there. All of these provide variations in hue, forming shapes within the large mass; one's pattern perception is constantly tested.

That balance between the massiveness of the overall form and the detail hidden inside serves to keep the listener's attention riveted, not drifting away. Wada has constructed an excellent, recent "classic", well worth hearing.