One of the defining aspects of music is that it exists in time. From clapping to dancing, toe-tapping to head-nodding, the responses of musicians and listeners alike capture the immediacy and significance of the musical beat. The Cambridge Companion to Rhythm explores the richness of musical time through a variety of perspectives, surveying influential writings on the topic, incorporating the perspectives of listeners, analysts, composers, and performers, and considering the subject across a range of genres and cultures.

My first encounter with what has come to be known as minimalist music was at a rehearsal of Steve Reich’s iconic composition, Drumming, in his downtown New York City loft in the early spring of 1971. Reich was still composing the piece and was teaching it to the assembled musicians by rote. Two pianists, a woodwind player, and Reich – the only one of the four with percussion training – were playing on a line of eight stand-mounted bongo drums and striking them with wooden timbale sticks. Normally, drummers play on one pair of tightly tuned bongos with their hands and they hold the drums between their knees, so I was surprised to see four pairs of bongos, tuned to precise pitches, being played in this manner. However, my surprise turned to curiosity, and even a touch of bewilderment, when I watched and heard what they were playing on these drums.