A Fine Frenzy

There are many different musical "Seasons" aside from Vivaldi's, and next to Haydn's oratorio of the same name, this is probably the most famous example. The complete ballet is of modest length–only 40 minutes or so–and the autumn "Bacchanal" contains what is probably the catchiest tune that Glazunov ever wrote. You'll probably think that you've heard it before, but can't quite figure out where. Neeme Jarvi is always at his best in big, splashy Romantic pieces, and this performance is no exception. He whips the orchestra up to a fine frenzy where necessary, and given Chandos's fine sound and a sensible coupling, you're in for some good listening.

This is a fine recording of two vastly under-appreciated works by young cello virtuoso Han-Na Chang. She has the extraordinary technique to play the excruciatingly difficult cadenza in the central movement of the Sinfonia Concertante and the sustained tone to play the long, lyrical melodies in the opening movement of the cello sonata. Antonio Pappano is a faithful accompanist whether he's directing the London Symphony Orchestra in the Sinfonia Concertante or playing the piano in the cello sonata.

The ultimate compendium of a half century of the best music, now revised and updated. 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die is a highly readable list of the best, the most important, and the most influential pop albums from 1955 through today. Carefully selected by a team of international critics and some of the best-known music reviewers and commentators, each album is a groundbreaking work seminal to the understanding and appreciation of music from the 1950s to the present. Included with each entry are production details and credits as well as reproductions of original album cover art. Perhaps most important of all, each album featured comes with an authoritative description of its importance and influence.

Welcome to Latin House Sessions, a panoramic perspective on Latin-influenced music with a party twist courtesy of Future World Funk DJ’s Russ & Cliffy. Over two hours of hand-selected tracks ranging from firing boogaloos to cookin’ bossas, from Latin house to Brazilian drum & bass.

Although they were often dismissed as a fluffy singles group in their day, Sweet crafted a handful of strong albums in the mid-'70s that sported some surprisingly muscular hard rock. A fine example of this trend is Sweet Fanny Adams. Although this album got little exposure in America on its own, over half of this album's contents ended up on the American edition of Desolation Boulevard. Sweet Fanny Adams' tone is set with the opening track, "Set Me Free," a fiery rocker that blends ultrahigh vocal harmonies to a furious succession of guitar riffs that jack the song up a level of speed metal frenzy…

Forget the movie, Abbado’s Alexander Nevsky is more vivid than anything you’ll see on the screen. With gutsy singing from the London Symphony Chorus, a fine alto solo from Obratsova in “The Field of the Dead,” and terrifying sonorities in The Crusaders in Pskov, this really is the best version available. Abbado pulls out all the stops for the thrilling Battle on the Ice–in the movie the music for this sequence isn’t continuous, and in Temirkanov’s version of the complete file score they resort to battle noises to fill in the gaps just when the action reaches a peak of frenzy.

No prizes for predicting that this Liszt B minor Sonata is technically flawless and beautifully structured. What may come as more of a shock (though not to those who have followed Pollini's career closely) is its sheer passion. To say that he plays as if his life depended on it is an understatement, and those who regularly accuse him of coolness should sit down in a quiet room with this recording, a decent hi-fi system and a large plateful of their own words. The opening creates a sense of coiled expectancy, without recourse to a mannered delivery such as Brendel's on Philips, and Pollini's superior fingerwork is soon evident. His virtuosity gains an extra dimension from his ability at the same time to convey resistance to it—the double octaves are demonstrably a fraction slower than usual and yet somehow feel faster, or at least more urgent.

For decades there has been only one recording of Admeto available: a quite splendid performance from 1977 (Virgin Records 5613692) directed by Alan Curtis with Il complesso barocco. One of the first baroque operas to be recorded with original instruments, it reflects the best of the historical performance movement. It is thus with considerable anticipation and curiosity that one approaches this new release of Handel’s Admeto, sung in English (to a fine translation by Geoffrey Dunn), directed by Sir Anthony Lewis, and recorded just nine years earlier in 1968. The cast for this recording is no less remarkable. Dame Janet Baker plays the self-sacrificing Alcestis; Admetus is sung elegantly and expressively by Maureen Lehane; Sheila Armstong is a brilliant and stylish Antigona, and the mezzo soprano Margaret Lensky provides a touching portrayal of the lovesick Thrasymedes.