Leon Redbone followed up his debut long-player On the Track (1975) with Double Time (1977), an equally enchanting, if not somewhat eclectic blend, of jazz, folk, blues and pop standards – all in Redbone's undeniably distinct throaty baritone. While the tunes may be familiar, these renderings are steeped in the artist's unique sensibilities. The results are uniformly ingenious and commence with a New Orleans ragtime flavored interpretation of Blind Boy Blake's dirty "Diddy Wa Diddie" blues. Augmenting Redbone's acoustic guitar is an extended cast of session stalwarts and a host of other musical notables – such as Milt Hinton (bass), Jonathan Dorn (tuba), Vic Dickenson (trombone) and Jo Jones (drums). Don McLean (banjo) sits in, supplying his criminally underutilized instrumental versatility on the endearing revamp of Jimmie Rodgers' "Mississippi Delta Blues." The decidedly demented reading of "Sheik of Araby" is nothing short of inspired insanity. Redbone incorporates a Screamin' Jay Hawkins-esque persona belting out a variety of hoots, snorts, howls and hob-gobbles set behind a hot-steppin' fret board flurry à la Django Reinhardt.
George Szell owned the First Piano Concerto. He played the opening movement like no one else, and he recorded the work with three outstanding pianists: Sir Clifford Curzon, Rudolf Serkin, and this performance with Anton Fleischer. When I say this is the best of the three, I'm making a tough choice, but Fleischer brings a youthful vigor and rage to the music that complements Szell's fiery accompaniment so well that they sound like they're both performing from the same musical brain.
It was the heroic age, the postwar age when American pianists first made their mark in the great wide world. The heroes took many forms: the apollonian Van Cliburn, the dionysic Byron Janis, and the mercurial Gary Graffman, along with many, many others. The most intellectually brilliant and technically incendiary member of the pantheon was Leon Fleisher. While other heroes rode the Russian war horses of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov to fame and glory, Fleisher stuck with Beethoven and Brahms, the Alpha and Omega of German composers for the piano. In these Columbia recordings of Beethoven's Third and Fourth piano concertos from the 1959 and 1961, Fleisher teamed with George Szell, the sternest of living conductors, leading the Cleveland Orchestra, the most virtuosic of American orchestras, and the results are transcendent.
This flamingly multicolored, unashamedly grand-scaled symphony receives a performance here so sonically beautiful that it's practically visible. The work is programmatic and tells of the heroic deeds of a medieval knight-strongman, (translated as) "Il 'ya from the town of Murom." Given the orchestration–quadruple woodwinds, four trumpets, eight horns, four trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, two harps, celeste, and strings–he comes across as a combination of Superman, Batman, Robin Hood, and Wagner's Siegfried. Leon Botstein brings out great warmth in the London Symphony's string section, the flute bird-curlicues in the second movement are luscious, and, in general, his leadership has nice forward propulsion in a work that can easily sound bloated. If this sort of huge, Romantic palette is your cup of tea–and it is sort of irresistible–then look no further. This realization is ravishing, and Telarc's sound is an audiophile's dream.
Rich, warm, ripe, and full of wisdom, the Emerson Quartet's 2007 recording of Brahms' three string quartets for Deutsche Grammophon is not only the finest recording of the group's 30-year career, but the recording that confirms its title as America's Greatest Quartet. Here, the Emerson's mastery of ensemble playing is complete. With its easy interplay, impeccable balances, and effortless tempo rubato, the Emerson has the vital cogency of a great jazz quartet. Beyond the technical, the Emerson's wholly unified interpretations are overwhelming.
Two very different takes on the romantic piano concerto, both equally successful. The Bliss—written in 1939 for the World’s Fair in New York—is extrovert, exuberant and virtuosic, the Rubbra a profound reflection on, and continuation of, the English pastoral tradition.