Recorded across a single sweltering Paris summer in June 1978, Adonia - the lone album credited to Ose - captures a rare alignment of intellect, imagination, and emerging technology. For decades it has lingered as one of the great half-secrets of French electronic music's most fertile decade, traded between collectors who understood exactly what they were holding.

At just twenty-six, Hervé Picart was living three parallel lives: scholar of rhetoric and ancient languages, journalist for the French music press (most notably Best), and guitarist and bassist in a run of progressive garage bands. Drawn steadily away from British prog and toward keyboards and synthesizers, he began imagining a more spatial music, situated somewhere between Pink Floyd, Tangerine Dream, and Kraftwerk. That triangulation would define Adonia.

To realize it, Picart drew on two figures from the very center of the French avant-garde. Richard Pinhas and drummer François Auger, both of Heldon, were then at work on what would become that group's final recordings, and lent their hands to the sessions at Studio A Barclay-Hoche. Pinhas built the electronic architecture - Moog 55, sequencers, ARP, Oberheim - and threaded it through with his unmistakable guitar; Auger anchored the rhythms; Picart presided over MiniMoog, PolyMoog, Hammond, electric and slide guitar, and Moog bass, composing and producing the whole.

The result carries the deep, dark pulse of Heldon onto a brighter and more melodic terrain. Long sequencer lines uncoil with patient logic while guitars hang above them in slow, luminous arcs, closer to the suspended drift of Echoes than to anything stricter. Across the album's five movements the music breathes between motion and stillness - cyclical, mantric, occasionally fierce - before settling, in Retour Sur Adonia, into a kind of return to rest. It is electronic music made by someone who came to the machines through prog, through writing, through the study of language, and that lineage gives it a structure and a weight that much of the Berlin school left implicit.

It belongs alongside the work of Pinhas, Patrick Vian, and the wider constellation of French electronic explorers who, in those years, were quietly rewriting what synthesizers could be made to feel. Adonia is the document of a single, unrepeatable convergence: a critic who became a composer, two members of Heldon at the height of their powers, and a Paris studio in the heat of June 1978.

Now reissued by Bureau B - the imprint that has done so much to keep the legacy of kosmische and French electronic music in print - on CD and vinyl, returning to circulation an album that has spent far too long out of reach.