The glowingly rich, cathedral-like acoustic of the Concertgebouw helps to engender a sense almost of awe at the effortless, cultured virtuosity of the playing. Perhaps there could be a bit more dash in the ''Feria'' of the Rapsodie, but the sentient feeling of the ''Habanera'' is warmly, hazily seductive, without a trace of vulgarity. The resonance does not help the swift tonguing of the wind players in the Alborada, and Haitink, sympathetic Ravelian as he is, is not entirely cohesive in his shaping of the Valses. But the superb analogue recording (vintage 1977) captures the feeling of being in the Concertgebouw and hearing this great orchestra create consistently ravishing textures, with the conductor's civilized directing personality shaping and balancing the music with his innate sensitivity.'